


Rise

by kleighanna



Series: Recovery [2]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-04
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-11 10:31:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 27,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kleighanna/pseuds/kleighanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Doyle's death, Emily and the team have to figure out how to move forward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Before we delve into the meat and potatoes here, I do want to do one thing. Address the timeline. "Lauren" aired, according to tv.com, in March. Which puts "Endgame" in September, six months after March. Which works perfectly. You'll see why, and I'm hoping it works the way I want, but we're going to give it the good ol' college try.
> 
> Two, I'm going to use the cases up to where I can. I want this one finished by December 1st, so I may not use all of them in an attempt to get ahead of myself, but I am going to use at least some of them. To that end, there will be spoilers. Having said that, this is a relationship-based story and not a case-based one, so when they do show up, I'll try not to ruin too much of the case for you.
> 
> This chapter, for example, takes place during 7x02. And follows it.

The first case after her return is messy.

It shouldn't surprise either of them, least of all her, but it's awkward. There's residual anger and mistrust.

Worst of all is Reid.

Emily loves the young genius. There's no doubt about it, but there's also no doubt that he can be more than a little bit childish. He never really had a childhood, and he had to mature early, so psychology tells her she shouldn't be shocked. She's not, but never in a million years would she have believed it would have manifested in this. She can kind of deal with the deliberate disregard he throws her way, but she's more than a little irritated with how he's treating JJ with.

JJ doesn't deserve that.

JJ got sidelined into it. Even if JJ was part of the decision to push Emily under, Emily knows it killed her to have to hide a secret as big as her life. It wasn't fair to the woman and Emily hates the entire situation for that alone, let alone the rest of the residual issues.

But for Reid to take it out on JJ? Emily is more than angry about that.

"I get it," JJ tells her as she mopes on her bed. Both women are glad to be sharing a room again, just for the sake of it, if not because they're friends. "He came to me… for weeks Emily."

Emily keeps her mouth firmly shut. She doesn't believe that JJ's refusal to let Reid in on what so very few people knew allows the other agent to treat JJ like she's barely there. And she's not a fan of underhanded, passive-aggressive confrontation. Reid is being underhanded and passive-aggressive. He refuses to talk to JJ about it, refuses to give her more than frustration and anger.

Of course, Emily also knows that he's not going to take it out on her, and he sure as hell isn't going to direct any of that anger at Hotch. For Reid, JJ is the safest option. It's terrible, and she hates it, but she can understand it. She'd rather Reid take it out on her, berate her for confronting Doyle, for putting herself into the situation that started it all.

Everyone knows that's not how it works.

In some ways, Emily agrees with them. She isn't normal, by any stretch. She's still having brutal nightmares, she's still battling insomnia and a residual paranoia that comes with six months of looking over her shoulder. What she doesn't agree with is this weird notion that she's fragile. That is where they're all wrong. It's also why no one will confront her about it.

Hotch is fair game. Apparently, so is JJ. Emily is not and it's actually starting to piss her off.

If anything, she is the one at fault. She is the one who decided to go after Doyle in the first place and she knows she's probably the reason behind going after him the second time. Catalysts. She pushed and pushed because she wanted this. And yet she can't help feeling that none of it is even at her fingertips.

"Doesn't change anything," Emily finally replies, her hand continuing the rhythmic stroking of the blonde's back. She'd started that the minute the two of them had returned and her arm was cramping, but she didn't care.

"It changes everything. I wish I'd said something."

"It was illegal." Immoral's probably the better word, dangerous is definitely the right one, but Emily's not entirely sure JJ quite meets the definition of normal at the moment. Or rational, for that matter. It's hard to be either when it's Reid.

It's easy to coddle him. Emily of all people knows. She's seen it, the team's done it before when they refused to see his addiction, his problems. But now? She'd assumed she and Reid still had a relationship that mean they didn't hold back. They called each other out. Yet, even Emily knows that's far from the truth.

"Cried, Emily."

The dark-haired agent sighs. "Jayje, I'm not sure what you want me to do here?"

And maybe that's the crux of the matter. She's glad to be back, more than happy to see that Hotch and JJ still treat her like they did before she was gone, but she blames herself.

"Don't."

She isn't surprised at JJ's rebuke, nor the way she wipes at her eyes. It's hard for JJ, who already feels like she let the team down once.

"You made the right decision," Emily finally says. "If he's mad… God, JJ. You and I both know the more people who knew, the more people who could be in danger. And… Reid."

He's the weakest link. It sounds terrible, and not at all how Emily means it because, God, she's seen that man go through so much in his less than thirty years. It's all shaped him and most of the time she likes the man he is. What she doesn't like is his incessant need to feel like he's not being excluded. She understands it – because he was the youngest all his life and he's got social problems – but that doesn't mean she has to like or agree with it. Not her style. Not theirs.

So all Emily can say is, "It'll work itself out, JJ. You'll see."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT: Castle – Rise
> 
> PROMPT: Rhonda – Somebody Has to Say They're Sorry

It does work out, though admittedly nowhere near what Emily expected. When she'd sat down with Reid on the plane back, she'd spoken from the heart. It was hard, to lose all six of them at once, and to not have anyone around to grieve with. She doesn't want to belittle what they've been through, but she wants them, in this case Reid, to understand that they all gave things up when she 'died'.

It also takes work to put them all back together again.

It's the latter point that it seems is going to be the sticking point. Nothing is going to be fixed overnight, least of all their relationships, but they are exactly what Dave said: family.

Admittedly, Emily's glad to see JJ's glass is the first one Reid clinks with, that he offers her a tentative smile as he comes to stand between Emily and JJ. JJ's nervous, edgy, but Emily sees the glass of wine for what it is: it's JJ's olive branch in exchange for Reid's smile and decision to stand between them.

Though, Emily's not sure that's enough for her.

This family means everything. It has since she started feeling like she could truly belong somewhere. And she does still feel like Reid was more than a little bit childish in his treatment of the entire situation. There was absolutely no need for him to be mad at JJ, at least not like that.

She corners him over dishes.

Dave taught, Garcia's going to have to make it again and Emily's the first to volunteer. She drafts Reid, otherwise she knows Hotch or Dave'll step up and that'll ruin what she wants to accomplish.

In her mind, the night has multiple goals: one, teach Garcia. It's an easy one because the tech goddess is not a total loss in the kitchen. The second, is to ensure Reid and JJ leave with their friendship intact. It may only be temporary, but so long as they're at a point where they can move forward, that is what matters.

But most importantly, it's her first step in proving she's not going anywhere again.

It's funny, in the ironic sense. She's always been the type who looks on the team like a family, who wants nothing more than to belong and the one time she does, she lets it go. It's not a perfect representation of the events, but it is something that pushes her harder than she'd like. Because the one time she would have needed her family more than any other, she refrained from going to them. It was a terrible decision in hindsight, mostly because if she'd had the backup the team provides, she wouldn't have been stabbed in the first place, but it was also an oversight.

She got selfish.

There are, of course, mitigating circumstances. She did it for their safety, and she firmly believes and agrees with that. She did it because Doyle would have come after them. She also did it because she wasn't sure what they'd think of the woman she could become. She's not a cold-hearted killer by nature, but she can compartmentalize. She can shove down all of the human emotions and focus on the ruthless. She did. She nearly shot a man's ear off. She still doesn't know how the team reacted to that.

She's not sure she wants to.

Either way, it brings her here, to a young man whom she loves like a sibling, but who doesn't trust her to stay. Of course, not that she blames him.

God, she's going to lose it.

She finds herself taking a deep breath as she turns on the faucet, filling the sink with soapy water. It's not her first time at Dave's so she knows how this works. Reid takes on piling dishes, moving food to one plate to deposit in the garbage. Once everything is ready, they work in a surprisingly methodical silence for a while.

"You and JJ are okay?" she finally asks quietly. She lets the worry show, lets him hear it, because she wants him to understand that he can be mad at her, he can be mad at Hotch, but he has to draw a line. To her, after seeing JJ cry, the line is drawn.

He doesn't say anything for a few moments – three plates to be exact – but eventually he sighs. "I cried on her couch for ten weeks."

JJ told her. It doesn't make it easier for Emily to hear.

"I'm sorry." She's not sure it'll help, but she has to say it again. She'll say it as many times as she needs to. They need to know, to hear, to under-freaking-stand that she isn't going anywhere. There's no more secrets, no more double lives.

Now, there's just Emily.

"I know."

He's down to cutlery and she's draining the sink when she says, "Sometimes I wish I'd told you."

There's enough of a jerk in his drying that she knows she's surprised him. Not difficult, really, because Reid works in boxes. When she does things like show weakness this way, it breaks his box a little. Usually, she makes it a game, but today, it's just about honesty.

"You guys would have been there the first time," she goes on, watching the water swirl down the drain. "We would have come up with a plan, profiled him, caught him, the same way we catch every other UNSUB. And I would have been the expert. I would have been able to tell you everything about him, about his son, about the man I knew. I would have been able to play bait safely, and everything would be different."

"But you didn't say anything."

She looks up at him, solely because she has nowhere else to look. "No. I didn't."

"You told me you didn't regret it."

"I don't," she agrees. "And I do think in the same situation I would have done the same thing. If I didn't know what I know now."

"How much it hurts."

She's glad it's not a question.

"Ten weeks," he says again quietly.

"Six months," she answers. "Don't think, for a second, I forgot you. That I stopped worrying about you. And, God, Spencer, I'm not an idiot. I know this isn't what any of us asked for and it's complicated as hell."

He surprises her when he locks eyes with her, letting her see how broken the poor man is.

It makes what she wants to say next all the more important.

"I am not going anywhere."


	3. Chapter 3

She's not surprised when Hotch finds her. She's contemplating heading out the door and he's developed a radar for such a thing.

"Did you drive?"

She shakes her head. "JJ," she replies, because the blond had needed a bit of encouragement. She hadn't wanted to upset the delicate balance, and Emily had done some serious convincing. Now, it seems, Reid and JJ are warming up again.

But she's cooling off, starting to feel like an outsider. She's fading and she's struggling and she can't help but focus on the fact that she broke them.

She's responsible for this.

"They don't hate you."

Huh. Well she might hate him. Or maybe she hates herself for letting her issues bleed into her face. Her hands come up to rub down her cheeks. She's exhausted and she's fighting so much.

"Have you slept?"

"No." She doesn't bother to lie. Her hand comes up to rub at her eyes, her forehead, to rub down her face. "It's an adjustment."

That honesty, knowing that he's just there… it's new. It started after dinner, after Baltimore and Declan and Doyle and everything.

When did her life become such a mess?

Oh yeah. When she made the decision to go it alone.

She knows he sees the guilt in her eyes; the pain and self-flagellation too. She can't help but blame herself, but wonder what would have happened if she'd gone about the whole thing differently. And yet, she knows that if she had, she wouldn't have the same values. She wouldn't be working so hard to put the team back together, to put herself back together, if she didn't know how much it all mattered.

"I'll take you home."

"I'm okay," she says immediately, and half out of habit. She's so used to just telling them that she's fine, that she's not having nightmares, not staying up 'til all hours of the morning, not hitting deep REM sleep, that it's a natural response.

But this is Hotch and the look on his face says it all. "You're not."

She's not. She's so far from okay.

He grasps her arm then, tugging her away from the main room where Garcia and JJ are laughing at some story Dave's told. His hold is gentle, hot, and Emily doesn't know what to do with the overwhelming number of emotions that flood her just then. "Have you thought about seeing a professional?"

She's surprised he wants to have this conversation here and now. It's something he hasn't asked her, in private or in the office. But she lets him ask, because he cares and in his position, both personally and professionally, she can understand that it matters. "Yes."

"And?"

"I don't know, Hotch." She's honest again, here, with him. She wants them to build a relationship, more than anything right now, and despite her own reluctance, but she only wants the relationship if it's going to be built on honesty and openness. She won't destroy this. She's learned her lesson and then some. "It's still a stranger."

And impartial or not, none of them are particularly comfortable with that idea.

"You need to sleep," he tells her. His hand comes up, cups her cheek, rubs at the dark circles under her eyes. "Stay with me tonight."

She's been staying with JJ, in the spare bedroom of their surprisingly small three-bedroom. But with Henry and then Will and JJ plus her own paranoia… "You can't sleep on the couch."

Because he will. There are only two bedrooms in that apartment. One of them is Jack's.

"It's a small price to pay for you to get a night," he tells her solemnly. He's not afraid to show that he cares now. His own epiphanies around second chances seem to coincide with hers. He's not holding back.

But she is.

She has to, she figures, if only because dammit, she doesn't want to screw this up. And she's not whole. She's so far from whole. And she can't give herself to anything beyond work until she is. Until she's dealt with Doyle, with Declan and until the team is back together.

Whole.

"Come back with me," he says again, squeezing her arm and crowding a little closer than 'friendship' would dictate. She lets her eyes flutter closed as she absorbs the feeling, the comfort, the strength. "Sleep."

'No' isn't even an option.


	4. Chapter 4

No one asks questions when Hotch pokes his head in to tell them he and Emily are heading home. He's not surprised. Now that she's back to the Bureau full-time, he hasn't exactly made a secret of the fact that she will be his. He sees the reluctance, understands it even, but he doesn't like it.

To him, she's not broken. She's just a little bruised, but under it all, she's still Emily. Emily is truly genuine. She's honest, clear, straight-forward, almost transparent in some ways. She's strong and capable, and Hotch believes, without a shadow of a doubt, that all of that is in the woman who is with them now.

And anyway, isn't that what matters? Doesn't anyone care that she isn't dead after all?

He sucks in a deep breath as he and Emily step out into the crisp September air. It does him no good to get angry now. He is, in more ways than one, angry. He made a decision for the good of the team. He made the decision for her; to save her. But everyone seems so willing to shove that aside in the name of betrayal and mistrust.

Exactly the opposite of how it was meant.

This is Emily, after all, not just some agent. He had the choice between keeping her alive and risking Ian Doyle coming in to finish the job. One decision, and it had created a crack in their still-healing armour.

Emily climbs into his SUV and immediately drops her head back against the seat. He knows she's exhausted, even if she very good at hiding it. He's sure, after she takes her turn in the bathroom tonight, that she'll look just slightly better than death warmed over. He always thinks she's beautiful, but he is worried.

She needs her own place.

"When are you apartment hunting?" he asks quietly. If she's going to fall asleep he doesn't want her to feel like she has to carry on a conversation. He wants her relaxed.

She sighs. "Last weekend." It's Tuesday. They were on a case when she was supposed to be finding a home. "I can't take the time off."

Preemptive strike, but he takes it in stride. "I can get you a week, Emily." Because he knows that she can take the time, if she really wants to. 'Can't' means 'won't' because it's too soon.

"I'll think about it."

Uh huh. She won't because she feels guilty and she doesn't want to seem like she's weak. She needs to prove to all of them that she's back to normal. He knows that, and, in a very real way, can understand it. They all have to believe they're normal, that the things they see and do can be pushed aside in the name of sanity. None of them are close to it, but it's a game they've always played.

At least individually. Collectively, they're not stupid. They know she's not okay, but her 'not okay-ness' doesn't have to translate into her job. Emily is still good at keeping them all separated, work and private, and since so much of her emotional mess bends too far into personal, she doesn't have to be a whack job.

But he does wish she'd break down. He wishes she'd taken time to herself after the fiasco with Doyle. Sure, she'd taken a couple of days to get Declan situated again, but it wasn't the same. Recovery didn't mean she was weak it just-

It just made him a hypocrite. He hadn't taken that much time after Haley, he so rarely takes time to be with Jack and he definitely hadn't taken the right amount of time to recover after Foyet stabbed him in his own apartment and after he was blown up in New York. Instead, he'd had, he has, Emily, but he's starting to feel like he can't help her like he wants to. She's so damn stubborn.

"You need an apartment," he says quietly. "You need a place of your own."

"I know, Hotch."

There's enough of a bite in her tone that he keeps him mouth shut but it's eating at him. "We'll make a weekend out of it."

Her eyes pop open – he can see it in his peripherals – and she looks at him in surprise. "We?"

He wants to sigh, but he doesn't want to show her how worried he is and how exasperated the entire conversation is making him. "We."

"I don't need help finding an apartment."

The bite is still there, a little bit of a snappishness that he knows comes from the stress of 'being normal' and the fact that she so totally isn't. "I'm not saying you need help. I'm saying you can have company."

"What about Jack?"

"He can come." Jack wakes up with nightmares still, of a missing Emily, of Emily going away just like Haley. Whether Emily knows from the times she's stayed with them Hotch has no idea and he's not sure he's quite ready to bring it up. But maybe the weekend, the time together, will do both of them good. He knows the healing power of a small child, understands that Jack is too young to judge. He's just a child and isn't old enough to understand all of the ramifications.

Everything that's gone wrong.

Jack is just really glad Emily's back. His life is still relatively simplistic. Emily's back. She hasn't left him like Mommy. He's okay. Even if his subconscious knows he's not.

Between his son and the relationship that's growing between them, Hotch is starting to think that maybe Jack-time for Emily will be good for all of them.

"You want to take Jack apartment hunting?"

I want to spend time with both of you. He doesn't say it. She's been holding herself back, trying to push herself to heal and he hasn't wanted to push how much he wants her in his life. He's passionate about the relationship he wants to build with her, but he understands her reluctance. He was there, after all. "We'll take him out for ice cream afterwards."

The thought, the domesticity, the idea that they will take him out for ice cream, heats his insides. He grips the wheel just a little bit tighter. He won't push her. It's only been a few weeks.

"I'll think about it," she says eventually, her voice soft. It's the one she uses when she doesn't expect what's going on, when something is just too good to be true. He knows she can't believe they are where they are, that he actually wants her. He doesn't see her as broken and he knows she can't understand that. Sometime soon, he'll tell her about how much of a help she was through all of his crap, but he's not ready. And neither is she.

Soon though. Because he's not sure how much longer he can hold back.

More than that, he knows he doesn't want to.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack rushes the door the minute he hears the key in the lock and lets out a squeal when he sees that Hotch isn't the only one. Emily sweeps him up into her arms. She missed him. So very, very much. He's innocence and adorableness wrapped up in the sweetest package she's ever met. And somewhere along the way, he's developed strong feelings, a maternal association and the uncanny ability of knowing exactly what she needs.

And he's only seven. Heaven forbid when this boy grows up.

Hotch pays the university student down the hall, listening vaguely as she gushes about his boy. It's not her first time babysitting him, but his son is something else. How he turned out the way he has is something of a miracle considering what he's been through in the last twenty-four months. Jack's an easy kid when he's not having a meltdown.

But what's really caught his eye is how animated Jack is as he's chatting away to Emily. More importantly, his eyes are fixated on her. She's softer when Jack's around, more tactile with him than with almost anyone else. She listens, talks back, and the tension and pain that usually inhabits every muscle of her body seems to drain away. Because Jack doesn't care if she wakes up with nightmares. Jack doesn't care if she has bags under her eyes, if she doesn't feel like she's perfect. Jack just cares that she's there, with him, and she hasn't left him behind.

So Emily know that there aren't any expectations with Jack. She doesn't have to worry about smiling just right, or saying the right things to joke. She doesn't have to tiptoe around how his little boy feels about the situation, doesn't have to address betrayal, mistrust, fear… Nothing. He's just there. She's just Emily.

He knows that's all she wants.

He continues to just watch them, even after the babysitter has departed. He does take the time to lock the door and set the alarm. It's still state-of-the-art and he can't help but both hope and wonder if knowing he's there, knowing his security system is top-notch, will help her sleep.

She looks up then, catching his eyes, his look and she offers him a smile. Her hand rubs Jack's back as he curls into her, his eyelids already drooping. They're not that late, but it is past his bedtime. As easy as he is, Hotch knows that getting him to bed before he's said goodnight to his daddy is light fighting the Hulk.

"Bedtime, Honey."

Hotch isn't surprised that his son goes willingly at Emily's quiet declaration, nor is he surprised when he doesn't move. Emily smiles affectionately, scooping him up with a groan that makes his son giggle.

His son is giggling at Emily.

Emily is relaxed in his apartment. Normal.

Is it any wonder that he wants her?

But now is not the time for that. He doesn't want to take long, but he doesn't want to rush her. He wants her to want this because she's ready, not because she's worried.

He knows, clinically, that it is dangerous. He knows that if he's not careful she could easily lean on him forever, without being able to distinguish between being 'saved' and her legitimate, real feelings. That's not what he wants. He wants her to know that he, that they, are what she wants, without doubt or reservation. He's not sure she even knows, and he's aware of the danger that poses. He's ready to give her time, but he's not ready to give her forever. Eventually, he'll tire of waiting and when he does, he's going to embark on a campaign to fix her and win her.

And he's always been an excellent chess player.

So he'll wait. He'll exercise that patience. But he's on a timeline now, a deadline. He knows how this is going to work, he knows what time he's willing to give her. After that, she will be his.

He'll make sure of it.


	6. Chapter 6

He's used to three am phone calls. Hell, he's used to all night phone calls. There's no real 'off time' at the BAU unless it's requested. He knows this. But he also knows that his phone is on the coffee table beside his makeshift bed and it certainly doesn't have a musical ring tone. He's traditional like that. And since it's not his regular ring, it takes more than a few minutes for him to piece together what he's hearing.

By the time he digs Emily's phone from her purse – with surprising alacrity considering he's half-asleep – the phone has stopped and started up again. He looks at the blocked number with trepidation. He doesn't want to wake her. He doesn't want to risk her losing any sleep considering the amount she's probably missed out on recently.

"Hello?"

"Who is this?"

The voice is young. Male, and only that realization keeps the snapping tone from his voice. "Agent Hotchner. FBI."

"Where's Emily."

"Sleeping."

There's a breath of relief, then, "I need to talk to her."

"She's sleeping," he says again, probably with more force than he means to.

"It's Declan," and there's definitely panic in his voice now. "Declan Doyle."

Hotch's heart softens slightly. He knows what it feels like to wake up in a cold sweat wondering where Emily is and from the panic in the kid's voice, he knows that's the case. He's had a nightmare and he wants reassurance that she's okay. That everything's okay.

Then a question pops, unbidden, into his head: how often has he called?

He can't remember seeing Emily randomly on the phone while they were on the case, but there's a couple of nights where they were in their hotel rooms at this hour. Sleeping. Had Declan called then? Woken her up with his fear? Jack's done that since Emily's return, but that's on him, and he's always been fine with losing a bit of sleep here or there for his son.

Emily is different, not because she can't handle it but because she's got enough of an emotional burden. It's why he 'sacrificed' himself, taking blame for her disappearance, for putting her under and keeping it a damn secret. She doesn't need more than that, but it seems like she got it. He hasn't even considered what Declan would do, now that he's been through the ordeal. He's assumed Emily and Louise would know what was best, would send him to the right people.

Had Emily been playing therapist? It wouldn't be the first time, that's for sure. She's done it before, for everyone on the team. It's why Morgan and Reid took her disappearance so hard, why JJ'd play so much Scrabble while Emily was away. She's a caretaker, a listener, and someone with whom there are no expectations.

"Declan," he says carefully, his voice taking on tones he uses with his son. "She's sleeping. Peacefully. Here. Alive."

There's a hiccup on the other end and Hotch realizes the boy is crying. "I want to talk to her."

Yeah, Hotch thinks, so does he. Maybe it's time for him to put his foot down. Still, he knows that there's no way he's going to be able to get Declan off the phone until he's spoken to Emily. He knows this game. He's played it before. Haley used to get exasperated when it happened.

So he moves swiftly and softly down the hall to his bedroom. She's curled up in a ball on his side, and she's buried her face in his pillow. He doesn't want to wake her up. With all of his being he wants to leave her sleeping. But the door creaks and she's flipped over with the light on in an instant. He's actually kind of thankful that Jack's presence means they put their guns away. He has no doubt he'd be staring down the barrel of her Sig right about now.

"Hotch?"

Shit. He hasn't thought about how to tackle this. He's holding her phone, he's gone through her purse…

"Is that my phone?"

Honesty, he decides. "Yes. Declan called."

"Called?" she asks as he comes closer. She looks good sleep rumpled, though he already knew that. He shoves it aside, holding out the device. She takes it, glances at the caller ID with a wince, then places it to her ear.

Hotch doesn't leave. There's a part of him that knows he should. This is a private conversation, after all, and her voice lowers as she speaks to Declan. Comforting words, reassurances, promises to see him soon. The same things he's said to his son on more than one occasion. But he doesn't want to leave her.

And he has questions.

She knows too because she doesn't look at him when she finally hangs up. He's perched at her hip, watching with dark eyes as her fingers trace the phone.

"How long?"

"Since Doyle," she reveals. "Every couple of nights he calls."

And sets her off. He can see the pain in her eyes, feel the guilt in her posture. This is why she's not sleeping. Hell, she's even given Sergio back to Garcia because she wakes up at his footfalls. And no, he hasn't been eavesdropping. It's not his thing. He had been going by Garcia's for something and overheard. It's the story he's sticking with.

"He has nightmares."

"He's been through a lot."

Her sigh is explosive. "Lousie and I talked about it when we landed."

He vaguely remembers her being on the phone. Then he'd been swept up in paperwork and the invitation to Rossi's…

"We're going to start looking into getting him to talk to someone."

He ponders this for a moment, trying to figure out how to ask what he wants. Declan should have been seeing someone the minute the case was closed. His team had definitely talked to psychologists within the Bureau. It's mandatory. And hell, he's still trying to figure out how to keep Emily doing it without stepping on toes or making it an order. He's waiting for her to break.

"Emily-"

"I know," she almost growls. "He should have been doing this a long time ago."

But she thought she could handle it. He reads that in her body, in the hand that slides through her hair.

"You're still healing." It's the best he can do without offending her and he knows it. So does she because when she looks at him, her eyes are mutinous. Denial.

"I'm fine."

"You're not." He takes her hand, a bold move for both of them, but he can't help it. He doesn't want her pulling away, not here, not now. Not when his entire motive for having her here is for her benefit. So she can get some sleep without worrying. And now Declan's called and he can see the relaxation disappear.

But when she laces her fingers through his, he knows she sees it. She knows she's not okay and he's kind of glad she's willing to give him that slight indication.

"The point is we're going to get him help," she says.

"And you?"

"Don't push it."

He grinds his teeth. "You're not sleeping, Emily."

"I was fifteen minutes ago."

"Light enough to hear the creak." That's his sleep, not hers. He drifts in and out. She sleeps like the dead. Or had.

"it's… an adjustment."

"Your cat's with Garcia."

"So I don't shoot him." She sighs then, and rolls her eyes. "Which is your point."

"You would have shot me."

"Never."

And it's true. She wouldn't have. But the fact that they both know she kind of wishes she had the protection of her gun is information enough. Sure, they hunt some pretty terrible people, but it's rare when the agents feel like they have to sleep with guns beneath their pillows.

"You can't take all of this on by yourself."

He doesn't have to elaborate on 'all'. She knows he's talking about Reid and Morgan, Declan, Jack, him… Herself.

"And a psychologist is going to help?"

She's not actually that skeptical. She's been through enough that she knows they can. If given the right tools. He doesn't answer, knowing she sees this for what it is. They've talked about the potential for a relationship and that means he cares, probably more than he's supposed to.

"I want you to think about it," he finally says. Because he's not questioning her strength or her capacity, he's questioning whether dealing with her own issues is enough for both of those personality traits. She's taking on too much emotional responsibility.

"I'm fine." But her voice wavers.

Maybe, he thinks, shifting, resting his free hand on her leg beneath the covers, maybe this is the break down. The first step. "No," he argues quietly. "You're not."

The first tear tracks down her cheek and she wipes it away impatiently. "Hotch-"

"You're not," he interrupts. "And that's okay."

He wants her to know she doesn't have to be strong here. Her burdens are okay on his shoulders, if only to lighten the load a little bit.

And, as the second tear rolls down her face and he shifts so he's next to her, letting her bury her head in his shoulder, he thinks that maybe he's gotten through.


	7. Chapter 7

She wakes in the morning feeling spectacularly well-rested. She's not exactly shocked. It's not the first time she's slept in Hotch's bed since her return, but it is the first time in a long time. She felt like an intruder initially and she hadn't wanted to infringe on Jack-time or Daddy-time. She's not part of this family (yet) and she's not ready to step in, to really stay until they've reached that point.

But his apartment in sinfully comfortable. Everywhere. She's not stupid or unaware of the safety involved. She trusts his alarm system. She trusts him. As long as he's near, her subconscious tells her nothing will happen. It's that, and essentially that alone, that allows her to sleep deeply.

He makes her feel safe.

It's not a shock or a surprise to her. It's been a long time coming, really. Before her quasi-death, they'd been close. Theirs is a friendship forged in fire, in the hell that they see and the hell that haunts them. Foyet and Doyle. Haley and Matthew. Children, mothers, fathers… the dead haunt them too. They've shared a lot with each other after the sting of her arrival.

And soon, they'll share more.

She shares enough of herself with him already. He knows she has nightmares, knows that things are tough in her return. He also knows that nothing she's feeling is consistent. She jokes with Garcia one moment, then sits in awkward silence with Reid and Morgan the next. Emily has almost required consistency simply because she got sick of inconsistency.

Her eyes slide open languidly, recognizing Hotch's room with surprising alacrity. They have a couple of days, assuming they don't get another body, and knowing the team, Hotch has banned anyone from the bullpen before tomorrow. She actually has time to wake up.

The time is shortened when she realizes there's weight in the bed with her.

The night is clear in her mind. Declan's call. Hotch's not-so-subtle rebuke. She blushes as she remembers her sobs, tears, and his arms. They're not wrapped around her now, and she takes that at face value. She's not ready, she reminds herself for the millionth time, no matter how good it felt. She can't give him mixed signals on this one because, for one, Jack's involved. For another, their jobs are involved.

She knows she has to be sure, but that doesn't diminish the happiness that lights her heart when she realizes he's stayed. In some ways, it shouldn't make her so happy. She's still a mess, a wreck, as if she needed more proof than the previous night. Or morning. Whenever Declan called.

She doesn't, she knows it. She's good at living in denial, at least when it comes to others. Realistically, she knows herself too. She knows she can't do anything other than heal herself, and that takes time. Time she hasn't had because she's been dealing with everything else.

And now he knows about Declan too. He's been calling, all hours of the night, to reassure himself that she's okay. She's surprised, mostly. She hasn't been a part of his life, not really. It was, obviously, too dangerous. Now? Now he almost wants her to be. He dreams of her, brutal nightmares of what they went through and it's not Louise he sees beaten, but her. She's not sure what to think about that. But she knows that she and Louise are doing the right thing in finding him someone to talk to. Maybe Hotch knows someone. After all, Jack seems to have adjusted well.

Speaking of.

The little head pops into the room and Emily can't help the smile that blossoms over her face. Jack is a balm to her tired emotions. She can't be sad when he's around, she can't be broken, because he's so bright and whole. His eyes light up when he sees her and she waves him over with her own broad grin. He's up on the bed in the next instant, settling down between her and his father. That's when Hotch blinks his eyes open.

"Hey buddy."

"Daddy, why are you sleeping in bed with Emily?"

It's never happened before. The few times she's stayed, one of them has always been on the couch.

"Did she have a bad dream?"

Worried eyes fly to her and she offers him a smile as she brushes her hand over his head. "No sweetheart. Not a bad dream." She pauses, wondering, then plows on. "Declan did."

"So Daddy came in here?"

Emily smiles. He's a curious boy and one that apparently remembers the friend he made. "My phone was in my purse. Daddy answered it and brought it to me."

"Oh." Jack purses his lips. Then says, "Did you make the bad dreams go 'way?"

"She did," Hotch offers as best he can. It's the truth, even if his presence in bed with her is a little more complicated than that.

"Good." Then, in pure seven-year-old fashion, Jack looks to his father. "Daddy, can we have waffles?"


	8. Chapter 8

It's a few weeks before the next bombshell drops.

Derek wants her to recertify.

Derek.

In some ways, Emily knows she should have seen this coming. Regardless of Hotch's role in her foray back into the underground, she made the first decision to block them out. Derek just wants to make sure she can still hold her own in the field. Of course, that doesn't temper how much that tidbit hurts, but she knows she has to take it in stride.

It's her penance.

She's kept up her training though. Recertifying is merely a fly on her wall and she shows Derek that the first time he gets her into training.

In fact, she whops him.

She's had to keep her reflexes sharp while on the run, and she, better than anyone, knows the importance of keeping up skill while under. A gun isn't always the best weapon at hand, assuming it's there at all.

He considers her from the floor, where she's thrown him for the eighteenth time – and yes, she's been counting.

"You've been practicing."

She rolls her eyes before plopping down beside him, cross-legged. "Of course. I don't know if you knew this, but being on the run from an international arms dealer with connections all over the world is generally considered dangerous."

There's a snark to her flippant words that isn't nice, but she's a bit hurt. Does she want to do everything she can to reestablish her place? Of course she does. She still considers them family, and they wouldn't keep her if they didn't want her. She just also wants them to understand that she hasn't changed. Emily Prentiss is the same person she was before Doyle, and she will always be that person.

"Probably more dangerous."

She sighs. It's true in some ways, because in her case, there was the serious possibility that her UNSUB could have harnessed the element of surprise. Had Doyle found her first, he wouldn't have given her a chance to do anything but panic.

His eyes are serious when she looks over.

"You walked away."

Really? she thinks to herself. They're going to rehash this conversation. "I didn't have a choice."

"You always have a choice."

"God Derek!" She's losing it now, she can feel it. She kind of wants to punch him while he's down, and that's not generally her style. "What the hell is it going to take to get you to see that Doyle is the only thing I lied about?"

"Why did you?"

She looks at him. Maybe he needs to hear it. "I felt ashamed."

"Of something you were forced to do."

"Asked to do. There's always more than one way to skin a cat."

His face wrinkled in a kind of disgust, but she knows her point is there. JTF chose seduction, love, intimacy and Emily was perfect for the role.

"And this time?"

He's talking about their first encounter with Doyle, not the second. "It was my life, my secret. It was my skeleton."

"We counted on you."

"I know." She's learning, oh so very quickly, that her spot in the team was integral. It was glue and string and all sorts of binding agents wrapped into one. She was Derek's best friend, Reid's sister, JJ's confidante, Garcia's superhero, Dave's peer and Hotch's right hand.

Finally, he sits up, leaning his arms on his knees. "Losing you sucked."

Grieving would have been terrible. Because the team would have fragmented more than a bit. And they had. Hotch had gone to the Middle East, Garcia and Derek had found Declan themselves, Reid had turned inwards… She'd done a lot of damage.

"I haven't quite decided if having you back sucks more."

Because he wants, more than anything else, to trust her. He wants to treat her like he did before Doyle, before her 'death', but he's been betrayed before.

"I don't know what to tell you," she admits. "I can't make you believe in me again."

She knows this and it hurts. She wishes she had a magic wand, something to wave over the entire situation to make everything and everyone okay again. But she has no such thing. She has nothing with which she can help them except a surprising amount of patience.

"Tell me about Doyle."

The request surprises her and she shoots him a glance. "What about him?"

"He was ex-IRA?"

She hums her agreement. "He believed in the work, in the cause. He was ruthless, but charismatic. He knew what to say to ensure people did his bidding. He made a good profit."

"And he liked brunettes."

She snorts at that. "Derek, have you ever seen the file on Doyle?" It's rhetorical and there's a bit of a sarcastic smile on her face. "Every woman he's been connected to has my colouring. Add to the fact that I knew all about telling people just enough about myself to keep them interested without giving and I had him hook, line and sinker the first time I met him."

"And you knew it." There's a trace of a grin on his face, one of pride. It makes Emily laugh.

"I did. I knew after that first meeting that I was in."

"How long?"

"Years," she says on a heavy sigh. She doesn't like thinking about it, hasn't counted in a long time. She doesn't want to remember how much of her life was wasted because of Doyle. Not that her time with him was all terrible.

"Did you love him?"

To most, the question would come out of left field. To Emily, however, she sees the connection. She sees why he's asking. "A part of him," she admits, "was easy to love."

She knows he can recognize it as a coping mechanism if that's what he wants. She separates Ian and Doyle because that makes what she did easier to swallow, easier to stomach. It's probably partly true, though she also knows that Ian and Doyle were two distinct personalities. Ian wasn't vicious. Ian was a father, a lover, and an attentive, passionate one. Doyle was another story entirely.

"Would you have married him?"

"No," she says without hesitation. "I told him, very early on, that I wasn't the marrying kind."

"And that was enough?"

"I know you find it difficult to believe, Derek, but he loved me too. He'd have done anything I asked as long as I stayed with him." She says the words to her knees and doesn't look over until he reaches out, resting a long-boned hand on her upper arm.

"It's not that hard to believe at all," he tells her softly.

She offers him a watery smile, then directs her gaze back to her knees. "It was a complicated situation. Screwed up from the beginning and I know that now."

He sighs. "Em, I need to go through this with you. I need to do this requalify thing. Do you understand that?"

"Mostly," she answers honestly because she does. He needs to see her in action, in all situations, needs to know that she's Emily again and not the pod person that took over when Doyle sprouted from the woodwork. "It hurts."

"I don't… I don't mean it as punishment."

But it is, and the fact that he doesn't deny it, means he can see it too. She hurt him; he's hurting her back, however inadvertent the latter may be.

"Nothing's changed, Derek," she says. It's not totally true, but she doesn't mean it as the broad, sweeping statement it sounds like. "I'm still me."

"Yeah. And it's taking time to get that."

"Why?"

"Because you had this whole other life."

"Before the BAU. The same way you were ATF, the same way Hotch was SWAT." But none of them talk about that. Not really. "Derek, I couldn't talk about Doyle. No one could know that I was part of JTF-12."

It was a mission, like any other.

He huffs out a breath and stands, but then offers his hand. It's some version of a peace offering, because Derek doesn't really hold grudges. He works through his issues, usually at a punching bag, so she takes the hand without thought. Because even if he doesn't trust her, there's no doubt in her mind that she trusts him.

"We'll get there," he promises her.

She knows it's the best he can offer.


	9. Chapter 9

Hotch sits at his desk late into the night. He knows Emily and he knows that his confession of not asking for her to requalify didn't settle well with her. It didn't settle well with him either, but he doesn't know what to do about Morgan. So he's waiting for Emily to return, to see if she's okay.

Morgan's betrayal hurts the worst. He knows that much. Emily and Morgan were close before the first Doyle fiasco and even Hotch is a bit shocked at how violently Morgan's reacted. Emily's naturally paired off with Morgan. If anyone could be acceptable of the skeletons in the closet, Hotch figured Morgan would be one of the first. He doesn't like the message requalification sends. He doesn't like the easy capitulation either.

"You're here late."

Of course Dave catches him. He waves the other man in and Dave settles into a seat in front of Hotch's desk.

"Is this about Emily?"

Realisitically, it's a rhetorical question. Everything these days has to do with Emily. Neither she nor Hotch has really made a secret of how their relationship is progressing that eventually, they'll pursue more. It's like the work place version of moving in, testing the waters.

"Morgan's convinced her to requalify."

Dave raises an eyebrow. "That's not necessarily a bad thing."

He's right, of course. It's not like Emily has to be taken out of the field in the meantime. It's not holding anyone back. But Dave hadn't seen the flash of pain when Hotch had broken the news that it was all Morgan's doing. It's so much more complicated.

Hotch pauses, thinks. "Do you thinks he needs to prove herself?"

"Of course not," Dave says with a snort of amusement. "Emily was on the run for six months from an international arms dealer."

Hotch agrees, wholeheartedly. Undercover like that means constant training, upkeep. And it's Emily. She tracked Doyle, put herself in the line of fire because she wanted to come back to them. She wanted to come back to her family.

Then again, both men have a very different relationship with Emily than Morgan. Dave's a peer, a colleague, some one who has never judged her. And Hotch remembers the three-hour coffee break during Matthew Benton's case. As for himself… Well, he wants her. In some ways, it's just that simple.

"Is she seeing anyone?" Dave's talking about a psychologist and he's not shocked at Dave's lack of surprise when he shakes his head. "Are you going to order her to?"

Again, Hotch shakes his head. For one thing, therapy would be useless for someone who's so adamant about being okay. For another, he doesn't want to go behind her back like that.

"Even if it's good for her?"

Hotch sighs. "We need group therapy."

"Maybe." Dave agrees with a chuckle that's not all amusement.

Hotch runs a hand over his face, then looks to the bullpen. It's creepy timing because Emily steps in a moment later, gym bag in hand. He sees the defeat she usually hids in the office. Between that and the exhaustion, she looks terrible.

Dave offers another smile. "Looks like she needs some comfort."

Hotch rolls his eyes but stands with Dave, packing up his things. Still, he watched in his peripheral as Dave stopped at Emily's desk. He says something, squeezes her shoulder and they share a true smile. Then he heads to his office.

And leaves Emily in Hotch's very capable hands.

He takes her home with him again, because he has to pick up Jack anyway and Jack is good for Emily. He watches over them as she reads him to sleep, watching her shoulders relax, the irritation flee from her eyes. He lets her take the couch because it matters so much and at midnight, when he can't sleep, instead of watching his son, he watches her from the hallway.

She's safe and sound, but she's not okay. He wishes he knew how to fix it, what he could do to smooth things over but this isn't his battle. It doesn't stop the pull, doesn't stop the need to help her, but he knows he needs to let her find her way. It doesn't stop him, in the process, from ensuring that she comes to him when things get rough. That's what he's going to do, he decides. The way he's going to help her, fight her battle is by making sure she has a place to fall.

And that place is with him.


	10. Chapter 10

"Prentiss, a word?"

Hotch watches her climb the stairs to his office with his heart in his throat. She hates it when people make decisions for her, but he knows she's continued to put off apartment hunting. And he can't let it continue. She needs permanence. They need permanence and it starts with building a home.

"Hotch"

He closes the door behind her because if she's going to explode, he wants to make sure it's behind closed doors. "Do you have a list of apartments you want to look at?"

There's a spark in her eyes. She knows. "No," her hands go to her hips. "I can find my own apartment."

"But you haven't," he counters. He's steeled his nerves for this confrontation because it's going to be a fight. She's been on edge for days.

"I haven't had time."

Which, interestingly enough, is his point. "You'll have time this weekend."

"I can't take time."

Of course she can. She's being stubborn. From the way her arms cross over her chest she knows it too. "It's already been granted."

"I'm not going."

He sighs as he catches her wrist gently before she can reach the door handle. "Emily."

She turns back and he literally watches the anger drain out of her. He's looking out for her, caring for her. And now that they've agreed to move forward he can be more blatant about it. That's exactly what they're doing. What he's doing.

"Why are you so reluctant to find a home?"

The question takes her off guard. It's obvious she's hiding from doing it. There's worry in her eyes, vulnerability. He reaches out to cup her elbow with his free hand, running his thumb over her sweater. He's encouraging her to talk. It is him after all.

"What if it's not permanent?" It's whispered, but he hears it. She doesn't believe it, doesn't believe she's here to stay.

"Where are you going?" he inquires.

She rolls her eyes, but doesn't shrug him off. "I don't want to go anywhere."

He pauses. "Then why don't you think this is permanent?"

She blows out a breath and he releases her when she steps to the window. He's closed the blinds, but they both know the bullpen's layout. They can picture it. "They don't want me here."

He doesn't bother to call her on the generalization, nor the irrationality. She believes it; that's what matters. "Emily," he begins, "we wouldn't keep you here if we didn't want you."

She shakes her head, like he doesn't understand what she's going through. "Hotch, I sit there, every day and… they don't trust me. They sit there… and nothing's the same. Nothing."

"Of course not," he replies. Realistically, she couldn't have believed it would be. They mourned her. That doesn't just go away. They're all healing. They're all trying."

"They're my family." There are tears bright in her voice, and they make his chest clench.

"They're working on it," he reassures her, promises her.

"I know," she says softly.

And he hates what he's about to do. "It might help when they know you have a permanent address."

She glares, but there's no heat, like she's thought of it before.

"Setting down roots is important, Emily."

"I know," she whispers, turning her eyes back to the window. "But if things change…"

"Then we'll deal with it," he promises and the pronoun isn't lost on either of them. He's going to be with her, every step of the way. He's got a second chance with her and with how brutal the six months were, he's not about to squander it now. He's going to make very sure Emily knows she's not alone.

She's chewing on her lip, and that's an encouraging sign. She does it when her mind is racing.

"Emily." He wants her to take him up on the offer so badly. She doesn't have to do the hunt by herself and he knows all too well what an irritation it is.

"Then I have to buy furniture."

It's a flimsy excuse. They both know it. His look telegraphs that. "We'll pick a safe neighbourhood."

"My old neighbourhood was safe." Or so she'd thought. But Doyle had found her there.

Hotch steps forward, gripping her arms, forcing her to face him. "Ian Doyle is dead, Emily."

She sucks in air, grows tense. He's hit the nail on the head, in a way. Her eyes slide closed.

"You held his son and watched him die."

This time, her breath hitches in her throat.

"No one can find you. No one will find you. You are safe." And he's going to make sure of that. He's going to do absolutely everything in his power to make sure that stays true.

Emily's breath shudders out, but she doesn't cry. Her arms unfold and her hands cup his elbows. Her fingers tighten reflexively.

"Say it."

Her eyes open. "Doyle's dead," she says quietly. "I watched him die." She swallows. "I am safe."

He wants to hug her, but doesn't. They're in the office and it's not his place just yet. Someday soon though. Very soon.

"Okay," she whispers after a breath. "I'll find an apartment."

"We'll find you one," he corrects. "This weekend."

"Hotch, I haven't done any research and-"

"And you'll start looking. Bring Garcia in, ask her for the safest neighbourhood within a decent commute."

She swallows again and nods. She's not thinking straight. Hotch has broke through to one of her biggest fears and abolished it for another day. Otherwise, she'd be fighting him, arguing. Instead, she's agreeable.

"Good," he says.

And it is. It's a first step forward, a push towards normalcy and another step in the healing process. Because he firmly believes that some of the reluctance comes from the fact that it doesn't look like she's tied down. She could pick up and leave at any moment. It's that simple.

An apartment will counter that, and when they turn her apartment into a home, it'll get even better.

She's not going anywhere. He's going to help her prove it.

But more importantly, he's going to help her believe in it.


	11. Chapter 11

Penelope Garcia isn't generally one to hold a grudge. She's already been through so much that she's learned it just takes more out of her than it helps. And fundamentally, she's just really glad to have Emily back. It feels like her family is whole again.

But it's a bittersweet reunion. She's hurt, maybe a little betrayed because family doesn't hide things. Of course, with everything she's seen with the team she's so very aware they all have pasts and they've all kept secrets to protect each other. So Penelope understands, probably more than anyone else, about history.

It kills her that Boy Wonder and her chocolate Adonis can't see that. They're understandably upset, but this is just getting ridiculous. She knows Reid and Derek would have made a similar decision in the same circumstances. And Penelope can't blame JJ or Hotch either. She's long suspected Boss Man's had feelings for Emily that go beyond colleagues and she knows that the protective instinct is extremely strong in the Unit Chief. And her best girl? Well, Jayje doesn't do anything to hurt people. It's just not in her genetic make-up. And JJ shot a man once to save Penelope's life.

It is still a betrayal. It still hurts that Emily felt like she couldn't tell them about Doyle and that Hotch and JJ felt like they couldn't tell the team about Emily. But, again, that doesn't mean she doesn't understand the logic, that she can't see the danger it could have posed to them and Emily.

But God. Emily's alive! There's very little that beats that at the end of the day. Alive and whole and safe.

And standing in her doorway.

"Chica!" Penelope hugs her tightly. She's done it every time she sees Emily since her return. She can't help it. For six months, the dark-haired woman was dead.

Emily chuckles as she returns the hug just as tight. She's never asked why Penelope does it, just accepts and returns the affection easily. And lets the gratitude show in her eyes when they pull back.

Penelope strides back to her seat and faces her babies. "What can I do for you Wonder Woman?"

She's nervous, but steps forward regardless. "Can you… I'm looking for…" She blows out a breath. "I need to find an apartment."

"Okay," Penelope says even as her insides jump in excitement. Emily wants to find a home! "What do you need?"

Emily comes to stand behind Penelope's shoulder, encouraged. "The safest neighbourhood within a reasonable commute."

Penelope jots the information down on a pad to her left and tips her head to the side. She wants more. She needs more to narrow down the possibilities.

"Two bedroom?" the other woman responds to the wordless question.

Penelope nods, despite the inquiring tone of Emily's voice. "You like having a home office."

Emily nods. "Pet friendly."

Penelope pouts, but it's not real. She loves Emily's black cat and it's going to be hard to let him go but she's willing to do anything to make sure Emily stays and that includes giving up custody of Sergio.

They spend the next fifteen minutes narrowing down Emily's needs and wants. Some of the options, like parks and child friendly neighbourhoods, are Penelope's additions but the analyst knows that they're not only likely to be the safest areas, but important as her relationship with Hotch strengthens. Jack's going to need a place to play, after all.

"Pen?"

She looks up. Her girls looks exhausted and nervous again. That won't do. She's hurt, yes, but that doesn't need to extend to Emily right now. It's just going to take time to heal and believe that Emily's not going anywhere. The apartment is a brilliant start. And Penelope's already thinking of her housewarming gift.

"What's wrong?" She makes the concern obvious. She wants Emily to believe in them again, to believe in the team and their family. And she's not used to Emily being nervous.

"This is good, right?" Emily asks. "Finding an apartment?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Penelope replies, truly confused. She doesn't routinely do the mental gymnastics the profilers do and yeah, she's smart but she can't read them as well. And Emily, especially, is good at keeping her emotions close to the vest.

"Because…" She looks so sad and it hits Penelope like a punch in the face.

"Oh. Oh Emily."

Penelope can feel tears flooding her vision. Emily can't honestly believe –

But it's written all over Emily's face.

"No." There's obvious conviction in her voice, and it's passionate enough to make Emily start. "You're family."

Emily releases a heavy breath, keeping an iron hold on the emotions so obvious in her eyes.

"This means everything," Penelope goes on. "You want to be here. You want to stay."

"Of course I do," Emily replies, reaching out to grasp Penelope's hands. "I just… I'm not sure it's what the team wants."

Oh, she's going to slap Derek for making Emily feel so obviously unwanted. Reid too, for making such a strong woman doubt herself, doubt her place on the team.

"To bury you was traumatic," she says, squeezing Emily's hands. "But Emily… We all want you here. We want you home."

She's alluding to everything Hotch spoke of without knowing it, and Emily's eyes clear because of it.

"Your own apartment? Building a home? I've been waiting for this, Em."

"Because I want to stay."

"Yeah," Penelope whispers. "Because it doesn't matter how much it hurt. That's going to take time. But it means you know you belong and that you want to belong."

"You're not mad?" Emily asks.

Penelope pauses because she's lying if she says 'no' but 'yes' isn't true either. "I get it," she finally says instead. "I get why you made the decisions you did, why Hotch and JJ didn't say anything." She sighs. "I just wanted you to come home."

And that's all it comes down to for her.

"Okay," Emily says, voice breathless with emotion. "Okay." She wipes a hand over her wet eyes. "Um… Hotch booked the weekend off so-"

"Quick as a flash," Penelope promises as they both pull themselves together. "List of Emily homes coming up."

Emily nods and stands, but pauses at the door. "Hey PG?"

Penelope smiles broadly at the nickname she hasn't heard in too long.

Emily echoes the grin. "You're still the best."

Penelope preens. "Well of course I am."

And it feels normal.


	12. Chapter 12

Penelope gets the change to give Derek a piece of her mind when she heads into the bullpen with Emily's potential apartments. The dark-haired woman is nowhere in sight – and it doesn't disturb her because she knows Emily isn't going anywhere - but Derek and Reid are bent over a file at Reid's desk.

Derek looks up and flashes her a grin. Penelope returns it with a glare that makes the smile drop off his face. Fast.

"Mama? Something wrong?"

She sets the files on Emily's – Emily's – desk and faces him with a glower. "Is there something wrong? Of course there is," she answers shortly.

Derek, naturally, looks startled. Penelope's generally even-tempered, but protective as hell.

"Emily came to visit me in my lair."

A shadow falls over his face, and it's enough to tell Penelope he hasn't forgiven anyone, let alone Emily.

"She wanted to know if looking for an apartment was a good idea."

He looked surprised. "She doesn't have a place?"

"You didn't know?" she responds, her hands going to her hips. Penelope does, of course. She spent a week at Kevin's while Rossi cleaned out his guest room at JJ's request. Emily moved in there after leaving JJ's. Penelope didn't mind the temporary displacement because it's a small price to pay to have Emily back.

Derek shakes his head as the shadows darken. His hands come up as she storms around the partition between the desks and whacks at his arm. "Hey!"

"Do you know why Emily didn't want to look for an apartment?"

Derek looks to Reid. The genius is watching with concern, dark betrayal and trepidation because a pissed of Penelope Garcia is never a good sign. Yeah, the kid's not going to help him. Not that he really expected Reid to take on the infuriated woman in front of him. "She hasn't mentioned anything."

Penelope whacks him again.

"Woman, for Pete's sake-" He catches Penelope's wrists. He's surprised to find frustrated tears in her eyes. "Pen?"

"Emily thinks we don't want her." She watches Derek carefully, watches him blanch. Yeah, dumbass. "She was avoiding finding a home because she's waiting for us to ask her to leave." She turns to shoot a glare at Reid too, only slightly satisfied when the boy genius cowers. "What could have given her that idea?"

"Princess-"

She glares.

"Penelope," Derek immediately backtracks. "She was alive. The whole time."

"She is alive," Penelope corrects adamantly.

"She should be dead."

The technical analyst rounds on Reid. "What did you just say?"

He swallows, but straightens his spine. "She's supposed to be dead," he repeats. "We buried her, but we didn't."

"And now she's not dead," Penelope shoots back. "Isn't that enough?"

"She should have said something," Reid argues.

"Between being on the run and staying safe, right. She did it for us; to keep us safe."

"Then why didn't she come to us?" Derek snaps. "We could have helped her."

"Put yourself in her shoes," Penelope points out, her gaze darting between both men. "He threated us, remember? Followed us, knew our routines."

"So did Foyet," Reid says.

"And did Hotch come to us?"

"He's Hotch." Derek tries not to cower as Penelope's glare intensifies.

"You know Emily's wired like Hotch," she all but growls. "It's a part of her past that she's not proud of and we were all in danger because of it." She jams a finger into Derek's chest. "What would you have done?"

She's furious now. They're not even trying to understand what Emily went through, what her last year was like. She's not stupid enough to miss recognizing a coping mechanism, but they're long past the point where coping is going to make it better.

She rounds on Reid. "And you."

The genius has the sense to obviously cower, but it barely softens Penelope's ire.

"How many things have you done that you're not proud of?" she questions. It's a rhetorical question because she'd never actually ask him to detail his personal failures and because she knows all about the importance of privacy. "No one asks you to confront those and no one demands you share them either, do they? Emily didn't get a choice. Doyle shoved it in her face, made her face it."

"And that changes things?"

"Why are you so intent on hurting her?" Penelope cries. "She's alive. It's a miracle. And you're punishing her!"

"Penelope?"

The tech stumbles over her heels as she turns to face Emily and JJ. Her eyes are blurry with the frustrated tears she has yet to shed. "Oh. Hi."

Emily's face is guarded as she looks between the three of them.

"I, um, brought you the results. There. On your desk," Penelope says nervously. She hadn't meant for Emily to hear any of that. It undermines the exercise and does exactly what Penelope wants to avoid.

"Thanks," the dark-haired woman says carefully, stepping over to pick up the file. She glances around the bullpen, looking for any way out. "I, um… I'm going to…. Take these to Hotch."

JJ stays behind, eyeing each of them in turn.

Penelope takes advantage of the opportunity to press her point. "Why didn't you tell us Emily was alive?"

"Because Doyle was still out there," JJ replies without thought. She doesn't have to think. She knows exactly why she and Hotch made the decisions they did and why they stand by them. "It put her in danger. It put all of us in danger." JJ believes what she did was right. Period.

There's a triumphant spark in Penelope's eyes. "To protect her. To protect us."

JJ folds her arms uncomfortably over her chest. The truth is in her eyes. Of course it was to protect them. There's no other option

JJ shifts. Then she says, "It's what you do for family." She looks down, then at Reid. "I still questioned the decision every day."

"But never said anything." There's a bitterness in Reid's voice, probably because JJ's dragging up the pain and anger. Yet none of them push to end the conversation. They recognize that it's cathartic, in whatever form it takes.

"No." JJ's voice is hard. She's not wavering. She made the right decision. She stands by her decision.

"You can't keep hating her," Penelope says. It's a show of solidarity when she moves to stand beside JJ. "She's our Emily." She sucks in a deep breath. "And she's going to stay."


	13. Chapter 13

There's something off with Emily.

Hotch identifies it the minute he picks up on it Friday morning, Jack buckled in the back seat, but refrains from saying anything. She's allowed to have bad days. Regardless, by the time Sunday rolls around he's left Jack with Jessica and recognized that they've taken a step back in the healing process. She's been unenthusiastic about any of the ten apartments they've seen in the last three days and it doesn't take a profiler to realize that she's no longer set on staying.

It's unacceptable.

So when lunchtime rolls around and they have a break, he knows it's time to get to the bottom of the issue. "Are you reconsidering staying at the Bureau?"

When she doesn't immediately respond in the negative, he knows he's hit the nail on the head. His heart speeds up and his stomach jumps. "Emily."

"They're fighting over me."

The quiet admission surprises him. He hasn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. JJ's still off with Reid and Morgan. Garcia's been a little darker than usual but it's unfair to expect her to be sunny all the time.

She sighs, seeing his confusion. "Remember when I came in on Tuesday with the list?"

Right. She'd been pale, shaking, nervous. She'd dragged out conversation. He'd chalked it up to avoiding awkwardness in the bullpen. Apparently it's more than that.

"JJ and I had just gotten back from lunch. Garcia was there, with Morgan and Reid, I guess they were working on a consult." She waves a hand as if to say that detail is unimportant. He's inclined to agree. "But when JJ and I got there she was asking them why they were punishing me."

Well huh. That's a new one. And a serious one. Maybe his offhand comment to Dave about group therapy wasn't as far off the mark as he'd thought.

"And they are. Morgan and Reid. They're punishing me."

She's not whining. She's being matter-of-fact, like there's no disputing it.

"Is this about requalifying?"

"That's part of it," she agrees, picking at the edge of her bun. They've chosen hot dogs, because she'd wanted them. Now she's not eating and he places a hand over hers to make sure she doesn't tear it apart. Being nervous is one thing, but he's going to make sure she eats her lunch.

"And Reid?"

Emily sighs. "Sometimes, he just looks at me, and I know he's thinking about it. About how he's told me so much and I've told him nothing."

It's not true. The team shares and they share a lot without meaning to. Just because Emily didn't share Doyle doesn't mean that she's behind in that department. In fact, it's more likely he and Dave that should be accused of not sharing. Emily's heart is too open, too full. She loves Reid, cares for him, and yeah, maybe babies him sometimes, but they've found a relationship that works for both of them. Or, he realizes 'worked'.

"I can take proving myself. I can understand why Morgan feels like I have to show him I can still be an agent, but Reid? I don't know what to do about him. And Morgan told me it was punishment, even if he didn't mean it that way."

And the revelations keep coming. He hasn't separated himself from the team, but he hasn't wanted to fight her battles. He's stepped out, there in the shadows, and in the process, it seems, he's missed more than he'd hoped.

"I've divided them."

They're having a repetitive conversation and he's not sure what to do. Because the obvious answer is to tell her that she's not responsible. Doyle is. Doyle's made them choose certain paths, Doyle's driven a wedge between them and he's done it from beyond the grave. It's a heartbreaking thought.

"Emily," he begins, knowing he's dealing with a startled animal very ready to run. "Have you thought any more about seeing a professional?"

She starts and looks at him, eyes wide. "But I… I'm talking to you."

Oh.

Huh.

Now how is he supposed to answer that one?

"But you're not listening to me," he finally says after the warmth has spread through his body and his brain has started working again.

Her face is indignant. "Of course I am."

No, no she really isn't or they wouldn't be having the same conversation over and over and over again. That's not what listening is about. Emily's strong enough, Emily knows enough, to remind herself that this isn't her doing. She may have played a part in it, but once Doyle got the ball rolling so many of the choices were out of her hands.

"No, you're not," he repeats gently. "How many times have we had this conversation, Emily? How many times have I told you that this isn't your fault."

She sighs. "They can't do anything to Doyle now."

So they're taking it out on her. It's the end of her sentence and while it's probably not altogether false, it's not completely true either.

"I just… I don't want them to fight. Not over this."

He makes the mental leaps in a split second. "So you think you should leave."

"It's the most logical answer," she says, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

He doesn't. At all. Because none of them run forever. Eventually, someone catches them, tethers them, pulls them back into the fold. They don't let family float away.

"It's not," he argues. "There's nothing easy about that."

Can't she see it? The battle, the internal war they're fighting… It's about reconciling that she's alive. It's about fighting against the instinctive response that comes with seeing her. It's about trusting that she's there for all of them again, fighting for them and along side them. It's not about her. She's still Emily and as much as Morgan and Reid may be rebelling against even that idea they all know it's true. Nothing's changed. She hasn't changed. Not really. Not at her core.

And they can't help her. It's part of the problem here. They can't hold her up, support her like the team does because they're fighting to stay afloat too. They can't keep her from sinking and keep themselves above the endless chasm too.

"Do you think running away is going to unite them again?"

"I'm eliminating the problem."

"You're making the problem worse," he answers. "They'll fight about who forced you to leave, which one of them pushed you too far. They'll blame each other, they'll blame themselves for forcing you away."

There's a shock on her face that tells him she's never really considered that before.

"It's not about you, Emily. It's about believing what they never thought possible."

"That I'm alive."

It's funny that the three words out of her mouth makes his skin crawl with heated goosebumps. She is alive. Very alive.

"That you're back."


	14. Chapter 14

Hotch is fighting for her.

There's a warmth in Emily's stomach as they drive to Jessica's. It's easy, she's convinced herself, in the dramatic aftermath of the last eight months, to fight out of habit, to fight because she was gone. But he's not. He's shown her more in the last hour than he has in the last five years. He's fighting for her, to keep her.

To keep her with him.

She's seen it in his eyes now. Sitting there, telling her that the team doesn't want her to leave… She's seen the desperation hidden in the depths of those dark irises. He wants her there. He needs her there. Even knowing she was alive for those months, alive but alone, hasn't seemed to help. He still panics when she thinks about leaving, still has the same repetitive conversation with her over and over again despite the fact that he obviously doesn't like it.

Because he wants her there. He wants her to stay. He'll fight her on it.

She stares out the window as she takes in that information, absorbs it, lets it thread through her.

"I think I liked the one with the huge master bedroom."

It's funny because she isn't listening to herself. The words come out and hang between them. She mentally files through the apartments in her head.

"The one with the stainless steel kitchen?"

She chuckles, because it's funny how they notice such different things. "And the perfect amount of room above the fireplace for a TV."

A fireplace.

She hasn't had one of those since she lived in that condo where she could see the Mall from her bedroom window.

He squints, thinking. "The second bedroom was a good size too, wasn't it?"

She nods and hums her agreement. She remembers thinking there'd be more than enough room for a large desk and a guest bed.

The building is pet friendly, so she can bring Sergio home. There's a callbox and electronic locking system on the main floor and a deadbolt in the door of every apartment. Emily had seen at least three people poke their heads out of their doors as the super showed them the place. Nosy neighbours. Emily's never been particularly happy about having nosy neighbours, but it means she's going be watched. It means that if something was off, someone will notice.

For the first time in her life she's glad to be under scrutiny.

Hotch approves of it and she knows it. He likes the extra security at the front door, likes the fact that there's someone there, even if it's just an old woman. Someone will notice when there's something off, something bothering her and eventually, they'll be able to tell the difference between work stress and outside stress.

And she knows the super likes the idea of having and FBI agent in the building.

Most importantly, however, it was the strongest mental image. She could see herself building a home there, could see the furniture she'd choose, the pictures, paintings, frames, colour schemes… She can see it all coming together. She can picture the team there for dinner, JJ and Penelope sipping Penelope's too-strong margaritas. She can see Jack on his stomach, kicking his feet against the floor as he watches cartoons…

She cuts her thought process off there. That's a long time into the future and it's not really healthy to think that far ahead. In fact, it's dangerous. Knowing they want each other is completely different than pursuing a relationship and she's still not sure she's ready for that. One conversation doesn't fix her and until she feels steady, until she feels like Doyle isn't really haunting her, she can't commit herself to that.

Because it isn't just about the man to her left. It's about the boy they're going to pick up and as if there isn't enough pressure in ensuring she doesn't let Hotch down, she knows letting Jack down would be worse.

"It's a good place."

She smiles.

"And I can vouch for the safety of the neighbourhood."

The apartment complex is only a handful of streets over from Hotch and Jack. It really isn't one of the main reasons she likes the place. In fact, until he mentions it, it's not even one of the good items in her head.

She giggles, giggles, before she says, "We can carpool."

They won't. She still goes in abnormally early while he's getting Jack off to school. And she stays late when he heads home. He's got a seven-year-old.

He laughs quietly and she's glad to see that, for once, she's wiped some of the sadness from his eyes. He's sad for her.

"Hotch?"

He glances over as he pulls up to the curb of Jessica's house, then gives her his full attention when he puts the car in park.

"It's going to be okay."

His eyes clear just a little bit more and he reaches out to squeeze her hand. "Of course it is."


	15. Chapter 15

Derek isn't actually mad at Emily. On the contrary he's just as glad as the rest of them that she's back in the fold. He's missed his best friend.

That doesn't make things perfect. He's let the team think he's mad because it's the easiest way to get them to back off. He needs time and space to absorb and process everything that's gone on from Emily's initial betrayal to the knowledge that he didn't watch her die. That in some way, he did save her.

Realistically, his issue isn't with Emily's death. That just flat out sucked. He's lost colleagues before, partners even, but it's been a long time since a death has hit him as hard as Emily's did. Maybe it's because he watched her pass out, watched the blood seep out of her from that table leg. He tries not to dwell on it. It's not healthy and it's not helpful. It just makes life difficult and painful. She's alive and that is what matters most to him.

But he does feel betrayed. He feels like he can't trust her. And that's because he doesn't think she trusts them. He's fought with her, had her back and the one time shit hits the fan for her, she turtles. That's what pisses him off about the entire scenario. It has nothing to do with not telling him she's alive. It has nothing to do with keeping the team in the dark while he and Penelope fought to find Doyle. It has to do with the messages Emily sent before Doyle even set foot in the States.

He's done his research. He's backtracked, searched, followed Doyle's moves. So he knows that Emily started acting off before Doyle hit the US. Which means she knew. She knew he was coming for her and instead of helping them, instead of telling them, she hid it all. And acted out.

He vividly remembers those snappish weeks. Two DC cases – admittedly one of them hers – and too many rides in Bureau-issue SUVs and one woman he'd known was hiding. He'd been right. And she'd died.

Well, 'died'.

Semantics though.

At the end of the day he can't help but think it could have gone differently. Her reluctance, her refusal really, to trust them with that, to trust them to help her against any enemy, foreign or domestic, is exactly why he's not sure he's ready to trust her. Regardless of the fact that she's told him more than once that she has no more secrets. There are no more skeletons in her closet that are going to kill her.

After all, he's not insensitive. He knows they all have pasts, he knows they all have things they don't talk about. He respects that because he has his own. But this skeleton had a son, a gun and a table leg and she had been thisclose to actually leaving this earth.

He knows how lucky they are to have her back. He'd felt the rush of happiness when he'd seen her. Sure, the earth came out from beneath him, but it's not like the devil had walked through that door. Just Emily, immediately worried about the team and the boy and anguished over which way to turn first. That's Emily's default with children. She wants to be there for them, but she knows she has a job to do. Eventually, the job always takes over.

And that's what happened. She slid right into her role, right into the agent persona. She broke Doyle, she made him talk because she knew him. And it had been so obvious that she hated it, that she hated him, that she hated the situation.

He'd forgiven her that much immediately. That part had been easy. It's the rest of it that's so hard. It's believing that she's still going to have his back when she has this ability to disappear.

But… God. It's Emily. She's back. She's alive. And she can kick his ass.

He's been considering scaling back the training hours. She doesn't need them. She's kicked his ass in the gym and then soundly beaten his score in the shooting range. She's still a fully capable fully qualified FBI agent. It's helped, if he's honest with himself. She can still take care of herself in the field, still have his back. Now it's the personal that needs work.

Penelope's passionate plea to let Emily go, to believe her, to trust her, is merely another pin in the coffin. He can't disappoint Penelope. He's never been able to disappoint Penelope. And he wants to be friends with Emily again. He wants to feel like he can talk to her like usual, tease her, banter with her, push her. He wants to be able to go to her after a rough case, to talk it out with her, to have her help him see the light. And he wants to be that kind of friend to her too. The kind of friends they used to be. The important kind.

He looks at her across the table on the jet. It's time he starts truly forgiving her. It's time he starts letting go of the anger. Because this doesn't happen every day. It's actually almost impossible.

And who is he to look a gift horse in the mouth?


	16. Chapter 16

When they climb onto the plane after Boise, Emily is slightly surprised to find herself beside Derek. He's been avoiding her in personal situations such as this for weeks now and it's kind of a shock to her system. They don't talk case when they've just finished one, not in the true sense anyway and Derek really isn't the type to sit next to someone if he's just going to fall asleep.

Which means he has something to say.

It puts her on edge if she's honest. She doesn't want to fight with Derek on the plane and if that's his goal, it's kind of a dirty trick. And an unfair one because she shouldn't be forced to have conversations she doesn't want to in front of her friends. Her family. Well, in front of Reid. Because it's the genius that's still pretty much holding back completely. For now, she's okay with that because he's always taken longer to process things. Especially abandonment. And he's stopped being so passive aggressive about the situation.

Instead, Derek pulls a bag of peanut M&Ms from his pocket. She's a sucker for them, always has been and when he opens them and tips a handful onto the table between them, she arches an eyebrow.

"They're your favourite," he says.

Well yeah, but that doesn't explain why he did it. If it's an olive branch, it's one she doesn't understand.

He shrugs. "You're good, Em. You're good at what you do and you're not fading."

"Thanks?"

He offers her a bit of a smile. "So maybe you're not so different."

Oh. Oh. That's an apology. She knows it's an apology, even if it's not explicit. He's thought she wasn't the same. He's thought she isn't who he thought and now he's discovering that that's so far from true. Her values of honesty and loyalty haven't changed, her protective instinct, the place in her heart that harbours that need to belong… that is and always has been Emily Prentiss. He's seeing that in her now, noticing that she hasn't made any drastic changes because Doyle's gone. She wasn't hiding anything before and he's realizing that because nothing's different now.

She pops an M&M into her mouth with the edges of a smile curling her mouth. "Maybe not."

He grins and it's infectious. It's an odd mix, when she really thinks about it because he's so intrigued by her. She knows it and, yeah, maybe early she dabbled with the idea of a quick fling – 'cause let's face it, this is Derek Morgan – but they'd shifted so quickly into friends that she knows it would have ruined things. She's glad they've slipped into something else entirely, something balanced between flirt-buddies and siblings. It means she can keep some personal things secret, but now that he knows the fundamental foundations of her personality are the same as they've always been, they can get back to their version of normal. As twisted as that normality may be.

They even fight over the last M&M just as the plane taxis for take-off and she wholeheartedly returns his grin when he slips his headphones on. There's something that's settled in his mind, something that he's settled between them and she feels like maybe she's got her guy back.

And she doesn't feel the slightest bit stupid or guilty when she laughs along side Rossi when Derek's music switches to Reid's screaming.


	17. Chapter 17

Of course Emily would know something's up with Jack. The woman has a radar for discomfort and unhappiness. And sitting across from her with that secretive little smile playing across her mouth?

He wants her more than ever.

The intensity scares him, not because it's new or overwhelming but because it's her. It's Emily Prentiss, the beautiful enigma with so much heart and compassion. He wants to learn everything about her. Absolutely everything.

She look vibrant and beautiful sitting across the table from him, concerned over his son then contentedly coy in the secrets she keeps. He's surprisingly jealous of JJ because the blond got to talk to her while she was in Paris. Sure, it was online Scrabble, but it was more than him.

His feelings have kind of snuck up on him. Not recently, not since she's been back, but before. When she was gone. The absence was something he'd felt so acutely and completely. Completely like he'd never expected. And it had been unexpected. Not it kind of just feels like it's always been there. Dormant maybe, but there nonetheless.

He's having a harder and harder time keeping the intensity of his feelings under wraps. He's fighting it every day. The protectiveness, the need to step in front of the emotional grenades being tossed at her from every direction. There's still so much stress on her shoulders. But seeing her across from him, relaxed on the plane – the plane of all places – the stress doesn't matter. Her concern for his son does and it warms his heart. The smile she shoots him, the little raise of her eyebrows, warms something else entirely. She's beautiful all full of coy secrets.

Secrets he definitely can't wait to unravel.

But in the meantime, he's got her here and his sweet boy at home and until she's settled, he'll let her keep those secrets.

Garcia waylays them in the bullpen. He's irrationally irritated because now is not the time. He takes plans with his son very seriously, even if the little boy doesn't know about them. But it's Garcia and she's adamant, so he stops at Emily's desk and waits the analyst out.

"It has come to my attention that one of us has a change of address."

He sees Emily blush in the edges of his vision, a pink that tugs at his gut. He needs Garcia to hurry up or all of his resistance is going to go to hell.

"And on a date to be determined by our gloriously returned Agent Prentiss, your presence will be required-" and her eyes shift between Morgan and Reid, "at said change of address."

He's not exactly shocked to find that Reid's the only one with a slight pout to his lips. He'd figured, with the way Morgan had bumped Emily's hip on the way into the building, that they'd found some sort of common ground. He also knows that even Reid wouldn't risk Garcia's wrath on something like this.

"Now vamoose!"

They scatter with surprising alacrity. Garcia stays behind. So does he, mostly because he doesn't want Garcia to pressure Emily into something she's not ready for. But the analyst is yammering on about how she's going to take on the responsibility of playing hostess so Emily can bask in her 'new home-ness'. He's kind of thankful for it because he's pretty sure Emily would put way too much pressure on herself.

"And you'll bring the junior G-man, right Hotch?"

It takes him a moment because he hadn't anticipated being spoken to. He glances to Emily. "If he's invited."

Her face goes tender and affectionate. "Of course Jack can come," she tells him. Then she shifts her attention back to Garcia. "And Kevin too."

Garcia grins. "I'll let JJ know Will and Henry are invited?"

He's not surprised by Emily's enthusiastic nod. All of them, together for a celebration? Considering the difficulties of the last couple of months he can definitely see the draw.

Garcia squeals and spins on one of her violent heels to skip away. Emily sighs and he knows the feeling. Garcia can be overwhelming on a good day. He can't help but chuckle as he holds out a hand. When she arches an eyebrow in question, he simply smiles, dimples in all. He wonders if that's what makes her eyes go liquid as she slips her slim hand into his.

Still, he offers an explanation as he tugs her up. "I'll walk you to your car," he says. "It's time to go home."


	18. Chapter 18

Emily can't get the conversation with Dave out of her head.

She'd asked because she'd been genuinely concerned and curious. She of all people knows exactly how dangerous personal emotional upheaval can be while working a case and he'd looked both confused and lonely. She's not totally sure she regrets asking – because he looked like a small child when he'd talked about Carolyn and when she'd encouraged him to go for it – but it's totally haunting her.

Second chances.

Well, she knows all about those doesn't she. She's living one. She shouldn't be here, really. She should be dead. But she's not. She's here, she's living her life, she's back with her family and she's got a man-

She will have a man.

There's no doubt in her mind that she wants Hotch. They're alike in a lot of ways, but more importantly, she knows that their relationship is a special one. It's stupidly clichéd and she hates thinking about it like that, but it's also true. She wants him and that's as far as she'll let herself think because though she fully intends on taking advantage of the second chance she's been blessed with, she knows that it's not that simple.

She's a mess.

She's still having nightmares, she still can't sleep, even with the new bed and the new place and the nosy Mr. Hamiltshire down the hall. Her apartment has all the makings of the perfect place for her. The building has a doorman after ten and the tenants keep track of the people on their floors. Maybe it's because of the myriad of kids and families that live in the building, but really, Emily doesn't care. Mr. Hamiltshire will notice when there's something off.

It doesn't help. She lays awake for hours. Sometimes she reads, sometimes she watches documentaries. Sometimes, she plays online board games and pretends the next morning she didn't run into a sleepless JJ like Paris. She's done the mandatory therapy and she was serious when she told Hotch she's not sure if she wants to go back. It's tough, talking to someone.

But so far from her first time.

She's been to therapy plenty of times before. She's well acquainted with the process and she's had enough time to wonder if her reluctance stems from a perceived weakness rather than desire. She's not sure she wants the team to know if she decides to go back. The logical part of her tells her that's insane. The team would understand if she needs to talk to someone, even on a more permanent basis. Hotch would definitely understand. Plus, he's been the one encouraging her to do it.

And she wants to get better. She wants to be able to sleep a full eight hours when she can. She wants to stop jumping at every random sound in her house. She wants to trust the darkness of night and believe that there's no one out there looking for her. Hunting her. She's not on the run anymore, hasn't been for almost three months now, yet after six, it's an ingrained mentality. One she wants gone.

Part of that is what brings her here. She's standing in front of Hotch's door, her forehead pressed against it, trying to figure out if she really wants to take the next step. When she'd left her apartment, she'd done it with a goal in mind.

She wants Hotch to know.

She wants to help him see that she's not okay and she can't be okay. She understands and accepts both of those now. More importantly though, it means that she can't give everything she wants to. That's the part that's not fair and it's not fair to both him and Jack. She's going to get both of them in the equation and she wants it – who wouldn't want a sweetie like Jack? – but only if she can give them everything they deserve. They certainly don't deserve just a part of her.

It makes up her mind for her. She knocks hard enough that she knows it'll make a sound but not too hard. She doesn't want to wake little ears if they're happily asleep after all. She hears the chain and the deadbolt a moment later and Hotch is on the other side, looking at her in concern.

"Emily."

"Should I have called?" She's nervous. Totally nervous. She doesn't want to put him off. She just wants to explain.

"You never have to call first."

He wants to be there for her. She loves that he does, because it makes her feel like she's not fighting this alone. Or, maybe more appropriately, that she doesn't have to fight this alone. He's there to support her, yet he makes it her choice and she's thankful for it. Because it means she can do things like this and he doesn't care.

Admittedly, it also doesn't look like she just woke him.

"Are you coming in?"

As if that helps the nerves, but she steps inside anyway, trying to offer him a smile. It's useless because he already knows there's something on her mind and she can tell because he waves her quickly to the couch. Jack's nowhere in sight, not that it surprises her. Routine is important, even more important for a kid like Jack who's had upheaval painted on his life for as long as he can remember. Some things have to stay constant.

"What is it?"

Right. Hotch. Well, then.

"There can't be an 'us'."

Her eyes slam closed almost immediately. That totally wasn't what she meant to say. Okay, it was true on it's face, but it wasn't one hundred percent honest. When she finally manages to ge the courage to open her eyes – he hasn't said anything and she's terrified – he's merely cocked his head to the side.

"There already is."

Her heart leaps into her throat. Why does she always forget that this is Hotch and personal relationship or not, she knows he fights for what he wants. It's perfectly clear that they want each other.

"That's… not what I mean."

This time, there's just a raised eyebrow.

She sighs and skirts around him to drop to the couch. She leans forward, bracing her forearms on her thighs and looks at nothing. "I'm damaged, Hotch." She knows her eyes are a mangle of emotions when she raises them to his. "I'm a mess."

"You are."

He's being entirely too agreeable for the conversation she wanted to have. How is she supposed to make him see that she's not good for him. She's not good for them. For him and Jack.

"Hotch-"

"Emily."

What is it about his voice that makes her jaw snap closed? There hadn't even been authority in her name. In fact, there'd been very little emotion at all. She watches as he comes to settle next to her, mirroring her posture so they can look at each other comfortably.

"You are damaged. You are a mess. But that doesn't change anything."

"How?" she croaks out and is embarrassed to find that she's on the verge of tears again. She's cried too much recently and it's getting kind of ridiculous.

"It doesn't change who you are," he tells her patiently and she realizes he's thought about it. Considered it. And he's still here.

"Of course it does. I can't sleep through the night."

"I often don't."

She lets out a frustrated breath. He's not listening to her. It's the only logical explanation for why they're having this conversation and why he's not agreeing wholeheartedly with her proposal that they can't do this.

He sees all that in her eyes. She knows it because his entire face transforms.

"This is my second chance too."

Her heart stops. There's so many meanings in there and she's not sure where to let her head run. She swallows convulsively "How- How long have you wanted us?"

"I don't know," he tells her honestly. "What I do know is that the six months you were gone were the worst since Haley's death. And you made Haley's death easier."

He's going to give her a heart attack.

"But this time, you weren't there. Because you were the one that was gone. And I kept thinking that you weren't dead, that you were out there somewhere. Someone, probably Morgan, was going to take down Doyle eventually and I kept thinking about bringing you back into the fold."

An absent part of her brain registers that this isn't like him. He's not the type to spill his heart and guts all over the floor, but she barely considers it. She's too wrapped up in the picture his words are weaving around her, the awe in her chest.

"And how I wouldn't let a second chance go by."

Her breath caught.

"So I'm not and you're not either."

"But… even if I'm…"

"One day you'll be better," he told her seriously. "One day, Sergio won't make you jump. You won't be constantly looking over your shoulder when you go into your apartment. You won't reverse look up every number you don't recognize coming into your phone. You won't jump at the sound of a gunshot or feel your stomach fall to your feet when we deal with a serial stabbing. We both know that."

True. It was still a creepy list of 'getting used to's.

"And then, if you still want it, we can pursue something real. But you damaged doesn't make me change my mind about something between us. You're human."

Finally, her breath releases and it's a little bit painful. She doesn't care, barely registers the sensation because wow. "You shanghaied my arguments."

He offers her a small smile. "It was bound to come out eventually."

That makes her start. "You knew?"

"I guessed," he replies. Then sighs and the way he looks away means he's going to reveal a weakness of his own. He doesn't like talking about weakness. "I killed Haley."

She swallows to avoid the knee-jerk protestation.

"And after that… I didn't think I deserved Jack, let alone anything else. People I care about get hurt. That's the lesson."

Oh. Oh now she gets it. Because yeah, she's not sure she deserves the team either. She could have gotten them killed. She almost got Hotch killed. And Declan? The poor kid is really screwed up now.

"It took me a long time," and a lot of therapy "to accept that I messed up, but that doesn't mean that I need to close myself off. Not that I had a choice. I promised Haley."

To teach Jack to love. And Emily knows the two are incompatible.

Now it's her turn to look away. "I'm thinking of going back."

"To therapy?"

She nods and hums her agreement. "I used to go, after the first time."

The first time Doyle was arrested.

"I have a friend." If that's what she can call the man who's been her therapist from the beginning. She still calls him up from time to time, but those calls got fewer and farther between after a while. She sees the Bureau psychologists when it's work-related. This… this goes beyond that. "He's… he's not a stranger."

He knows her. Knows all about her.

Hotch releases a breath. "If you think you need to."

She's honoured at the implication that he doesn't think she needs it. "I think it'll help me get better."

Or normal. Whatever. The point is, she thinks talking to Garrett is going to help get her, and by extension them, closer to full health. And that means closer to 'them'.

"It's your choice."

Finally, she smiles. "It is." He's not pressuring her. She wants this. She wants them and since he seems unrelenting in his own want, she's willing to do whatever it takes. She's willing to admit she needs help. "I want us."

He takes her hand, weaving their fingers, and she absorbs his comforting warmth. "I do too."


	19. Chapter 19

It feels so good.

The flight back, and now the discussion, the talk, the absolute innocence of Reid… it feels too good. Almost too good to be true too. But she's goofing and they're trying to explain women and shoes and…

She feels normal.

She knows it's not going to last.

Maybe that's why she's hanging onto it with both hands. She grins as JJ tries to explain the necessity for closets of shoes. Belts, skirts, shirts, bags… yeah, she's definitely got a few pairs of shoes that meet that criteria.

She laughs with the rest of them when Reid says it doesn't help and looks up in time to catch Hotch's eye as the doors close on him and Dave. It's not more than a split second, but she sees the change overtaking his face. He softens, smiles just enough and she knows now that a part of it is just her. But she's also pretty sure that a huge chunk of it is them.

This time, them is the team.

The normal cadence of each of them trying to talk over the other, the way her attention is drawn by Garcia's mention of shoes and her own need for new boots – new everything, but that's beside the point – definitely makes her feel like things can be normal again. And maybe even normal despite relationship shifts and changes.

It's a hope she really hasn't allowed herself to feel.

For a few minutes, stolen moments maybe, Doyle never happened. She never 'died', never faced him, never left her family behind. They're simply there, together, talking about next steps and fun times.

She links arms with Garcia as the woman natters on about the boot sale and the shoes she's totally going to buy, laughing at the horror on Reid's face and the affection on Morgan's. JJ's laugh rings out from behind her and Emily lets a true smile free. Her heart lifts, rising with the potential that this brings.

They have their issues, each one of them and all of them, but that doesn't change what they are.

They're family.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT: Judging Amy – The Burden of Perspective

When Emily finds him at Carolyn's grave, Dave can't say he's actually surprised. He knows she's used to this in a way. Hotch spent plenty of time at Haley's grave in the early days after her death. He's willing to bet she refused to leave until she saw him do the same. Garcia's insisted on holding some sort of reception and because it's the team and they're talking about Carolyn, he'd agreed.

He'd just… needed an extra minute.

"There's been too much mourning lately."

He takes no offense. There's too much understood melancholy in her tone.

"I loved her," he tells her. Emily's the least judgmental person he knows and the only one he's told about Carolyn's request.

"I know," she promises. His boyhood glee when she suggested he take the leap and go for it tells her his feelings for his first wife still run deep. As she glances to the other tiny grave to the left, she knows it goes beyond the status of 'first wife'. Carolyn Rossi, it seems, was a lot of firsts for Dave.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," he says, his hand brushing back and forth over Carolyn's headstone. Because it's Emily, she stays silent, supportive. Despite the fact that she may thing she's broken, Dave knows this is what Hotch sees in her. Unwavering strength and compassion. It's the same thing the rest of the team gravitates towards. It's why losing her was so devastating.

"We've been divorced twenty years," he sighs. "I screwed up my first chance and lost my second."

He hears her shift and wonders if she knows where this is going. She doesn't say anything though, maybe because she recognizes this is a purge he needs to do.

"I've made a lot of mistakes, Emily." He's got three ex-wives and a tragically dead son to prove it. "I've let a lot of things take precedence over what's really important."

"I get it, Dave," she interrupts softly.

He wonders if he looks as aged as he feels or maybe she hears the depression he can feel crawling up his throat. He looks up at her, standing just to his left. "And your second chance?"

She smiles, not the true, glorious one he's seen her flashing around the BAU, but a smile nonetheless. "I'll get there."

He cares about them. Hotch and Emily especially. Hotch, though, is a man he's mentored for years, since the very green ex-prosecutor and SWAT member joined the BAU. He and Emily clicked almost off the bat and he knows she's the one who pushed to follow him to Indianapolis. He knows she trusts him, treats him like an equal and she demands that kind of respect in return. He wants to see them happy, to have what he can't seem to hold onto. He can definitely see them doing that together.

Succeeding together.

"This may be your last chance."

"Oh, I don't think so," she says with a sly little smile. It actually forces a chuckle from his throat because he truly appreciates the sentiment. Emily's saying that he's not finished yet. Carolyn's death is tragic, especially in the context, but she has faith that he will move forward, that there's still someone out there that can put up with his quirks, long hours, pig-headed moments and general arrogance.

He looks up at her, offering a quirk of his lips. Twenty years ago, he may have made a play for her, but she's so totally Hotch's that he's not sure he would have. It's been obvious to him for a long time that they'd end up in some sort of relationship. Of course, Hotch had still been married when he returned to the BAU…

"It's only your last chance when it's your death bed," she tells him, her voice quiet but serious. "When you're looking at your life, knowing you won't get another day… Until then, you take every day, Dave. And you take absolutely nothing for granted."

Considering this is the woman who quite literally stared death in the face, he's inclined to believe her. Yet she now has so much of her life left to live. It does feel a little odd to be getting that advice when he'd thought to give it, but he takes comfort in the knowledge that she knows how important it is. He's glad she can see how rare this new chance is.

"My playboy days are long over," he says with a self-deprecating grin.

"Who says? I'll bet if we walk into any retirement home in DC it'll take you all of three seconds."

The jab makes him grin, makes him feel less lost. He misses Carolyn already, misses what they had and the good memories she always seemed to bring with her. But he knows he's not alone. He knows he has these people, these fantastic, unique, misfit toys of the FBI. He's claimed them as family, and they've absorbed him into their folds.

His grin fades slowly as he stands and when he turns to her his eyes are serious. He reaches out and squeezes her shoulder. "You don't take a single second for granted, you hear me?" he tells her. "You do whatever it takes to make sure this chance doesn't slip by."

"I promise," she says solemnly. He's not sure whether she believes it, but he'll take it. It's what he was looking for. Then they're walking back to the parking lot, side-by-side, falling into the easy step they take when they're on a case, off to celebrate the woman who made him believe in second chances and the one who forces him to believe he can have a third.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT: Caprica – The Things We Lock Away

It's been a long evening.

Enjoyable, without a doubt, but long. That's what happens when Penelope throws a party. It's always draining. Thankfully, they've all finally left, her team, her family and they've also, thankfully, taken most of the mess with them. Penelope hung around to help clean, but now she's gone too and the leftover mess isn't helping Emily keep her mind off of how suddenly lonely her apartment feels.

It's a surprise.

Emily's the type that likes her time to herself. She needs it to recharge, but after the night of laughter, of teasing, bantering, joking and just family. She's now seen just how big Henry's grown, and of course, Jack.

She sighs in a mixture of sadness and contentment. She's got some sweet new stuff from housewarming gifts including a neat kettle and cup – more like a bowl really – from Penelope, and an IOU from Derek for any maintenance she may need around the apartment. But now the place seems so quiet and she can hear every movement of Sergio, and every creaking floorboard.

Which includes the knock at the door. She's not expecting anyone so she shoots Sergio a confused look where he's lounging on her single couch. He, of course, doesn't reply. She feels the panic climbing her throat and decides to placate herself by pulling her gun out of the safe by the door. She also checks her peephole.

She would have never expected the person on the other side of the door.

"Reid?"

He looks shaken and she's surprised. He'd left almost three hours ago, and looking at him, something must have woken him. He lives far enough away that his presence at her door is a shock. She's not sure how she feels about it. She's worried, that much is easy to pinpoint, but she's also not sure what to expect. They've been okay, but she's not totally sure Reid's forgiven her, or accepted her. She's more than a little afraid he's going to pick a fight.

He can, with her. They have a relationship where he trusts that she's not just going to shrug his concerns aside. She's the one person he's not afraid of confronting outside of a reactionary circumstances and she's not afraid to tell him when he's being childish and stupid. This though, she's a little worried. He's standing on the other side of the door, his eyes searching her face.

"Spencer."

That does it. It's short, it's probably a little rude, but it makes him jump. And jump into action. She's surprised when he wraps himself around her body. She releases an 'oh' when he squeezes her ribs, but doesn't shove him off. Instead she wraps an arm around his shoulders and uses the other to reach out and close the door. His body shakes against her and it means that when she feels the tears against her shoulder she just sighs and tightens her arms.

She's been wondering when something like this would be coming.

They've been working through so much. So very, very much. Stress gets to everyone and in different ways. Reid is the internal sort. It explodes, eventually. It's why he'll lash out at Derek or Hotch. JJ. Her.

When he eventually calms down enough to move, she guides him to the couch, sits him down on the corner. She heats water and pours it into the kitty kettle, placing the bowl on the table in front of him. She brings over honey, because that's how Reid takes his tea and brings over the kettle when it's boiled. He still hasn't said anything and probably won't until he's ready so she makes his tea and then sits beside him.

Thankfully, it doesn't take long.

"You felt… cold?"

It doesn't take Emily long to catch up. "Do you know how long I was in that warehouse?" She means it to lighten the conversation, to give them some space from the grief, but he doesn't seem like that's what he wants.

"I… I knew I'd done everything," he says softly. "I guess… I guess I was ready to die."

"No one's ready," she points out gently. "Reid, what we saw when we died isn't reflective of our lives."

His breath hitches and it doesn't take Reid's IQ to figure out why. She's wondered, since his breathless question, if the fact that she has really died makes the whole situation easier to stomach. She did die. Not for long, but she did. Sometimes that's enough to start reconciling the rest of it.

"I… had a nightmare."

That she's not expecting. She reaches out and grasps his hand. He grips hers tighter.

"None of it was real."

She jolts. No. He couldn't be-

"You were really dead."

It makes her shiver. She tries not to think about it, especially because it's not true. She lived, she's here, but she hasn't really had to deal with the fact that she's gone. Not like they had. There was always a part of her that knew she'd be coming back. But the team… there would have been absolutely no awareness. And JJ and Hotch made clear that they made the decision and kept it all to themselves.

She squeezes his hand. "I'm not dead."

But that's why he's here. To see for himself. So she glances at the clock.

"It's late," she says quietly. "I'll grab you a pillow and a blanket."

He tries to protest as she moves around the living room, trying to argue that she's going to hear every shift he makes, but she won't listen. She's going to have to get used to it eventually. There's always going to be people in her life and she's not going to be able to live if every sound wakes her. She'll be tired the entire time. So she offers him a smile.

"Don't be ridiculous."

He doesn't really argue after that. Just starts puttering, moving the forgotten tea to the counter while she manages to dig up a blanket and an extra pillow. For the first time in a while she's glad she's a naturally cold person. Extra blankets are a survival tool rather than just nice.

She settles him down and heads to bed, leaving the door open just a bit when she's ready to curl up under the blankets. It's awkward and weird, but Emily's not sure what else to do to help reassure Reid that she's not going anywhere. And it's Reid. There's nothing to be afraid of.

Still, she lies awake late, long after Reid's gone to sleep, trying to acclimate herself to the sounds, the shuffling, the bloody talking.

But most importantly, trying to convince herself once again that this is only temporary.


	22. Chapter 22

Emily wants to support JJ. She really, really does. JJ's her girl, the one who played endless rounds of online Scrabble with her, even with the time difference. JJ was there for her and she wants to make sure JJ knows that the relationship works both ways. But Emily is kind of glad the blond races home to see her sick son. It gives Emily the chance to just go home. It's been a long case.

Actually, every case since California's been long. Every case since her housewarming party. Since Reid started staying the night. He's been over almost every night now, and that includes checking on her when they're on the road. Thankfully, JJ sleeps deep enough that she can't hear the gentle scratching on the door that means Reid's there, but Emily isn't that lucky. She'd even considered just getting an extra key for the young genius on this past case in Kansas, but that crosses the line to creepy so she'd refrained.

But she's running on proverbial fumes. She doesn't have the heart to tell Reid that it isn't working, that he's making it worse. He always looks so terrified when she checks the peephole and so relieved to see her when she opens the door that her guilt won't let her turn him away.

Unfortunately, it means she can't remember the last time she really got a full night's sleep.

Dave's noticed. He's at her elbow more often, almost hovering, but back far enough that she knows she can't call him on it. Hotch, naturally, has notices something off, but he's not saying anything either. He's waiting because he doesn't want to push her. Since she doesn't want to rat Reid out, they're kind of at an impasse, which means she either has to suck it up or handle it. She's not sure either is a very viable option. So all she wants to do is get home ASAP and get as much sleep as she can before Reid shows up.

She knows that option flies out the window the minute Hotch catches her wrist and just barely holds in a groan. This is the last think she wants, but she can't yell at him. Instead she turns to face him. She can't stop her heart from melting at the concern all over his face.

"Come for dinner," he requests softly, though they both know that's not all he's asking. The catch is easy to spot. If she begs off because of exhaustion, he'll make her come anyway, and if she goes, she'll stay. Then what happens if Reid shows up at her door? And having Hotch and Jack over is spectacularly out of the question. It's no place for little boys.

The struggle is plain on her face. She knows because his frown lines deepen.

"What is it?" he asks, squeezing the wrist he still holds. It's the extent of personal contact they usually allow herself in the office.

She releases an inward sigh. She can't say anything. But he surprises her, breaks the rules by reaching up to brush his thumb over the bags she knows must be obvious by now.

"Nightmares?"

She shakes her head. It's not a completely lie, but it's not completely the truth either. So he won't call her out for lying, even if he knows it's not the truth. Plausible deniability. She's good at it.

"The case? The team?"

His hand slides to her neck, forcing her to hold his gaze. He sees something, because his face changes, shifts.

"Who is it?"

"Please don't." She's too tired for this. It's too much and she punctuates the plea by twisting the wrist he holds until she's grasping his hand instead.

Hotch huffs out his irritation and she feels bad. He wants to help, to be there, and she wants to let him. She really does. There are just some things…

"You're not sleeping again, Emily. You're not getting better."

Exhaustion makes her temper spark. She will not tolerate the implicit and related argument: that she's holding 'them' back by not getting better. By not coping properly. But she is getting better. She's not the one having nightmares. She's not the one up all night and she's not seeing herself in every victim. She's been going to Garrett for Pete's sake, fortifying her coping mechanisms. "You don't have the right to say that."

He's taken aback by her hissing, vehement protestation but she's still holding his hand. It's not a total screw up. "You're talking to your friend."

Because it's a statement, she simply offers him an irritated arch of the brow.

"You're not having nightmares."

This time, she adds pursed lips to the look, a tightening of her jaw.

"Then tell me why you're not sleeping."

Huh. Effective corner, Agent Hotchner, but she retaliates by releasing his hand and twisting his statement. "Fine, I'll come by."

She walks away then because she knows she has to. If she doesn't, she's going to spill it all and that's not fair. He's three seconds from getting her to confess. Theoretically, the damage has already been done. She's agreed to go to his place and that means she'll agree to spend the night.

She catches Reid packing in the bullpen, hoping she has enough time before Hotch heads to his office to do the same. "I won't be home tonight."

He starts, then awareness and fear hit simultaneously. She won't be home. He can't come tonight. She walks around the desk, grasps his arm carefully.

"Reid, Spencer. I am alive."

His eyes are wide, childlike, and this is the part she wishes he'd get over. They've been through too much, too much loss and pain for him to continue to act this naïve. He's got his own coping mechanisms and she knows it. They all know it.

His mouth opens and closes a few times, but he can't seem to make his mouth work.

She squeezes his arm again. "Alive."

Hotch steps in at that moment and Emily drops Reid's arm. She's hoping he doesn't take it as a rejection, but if she's going to protect him from Hotch finding out – and Emily's pretty sure 'unhappy' would be an understatement for what Hotch would feel – she has to make it seem like she's not coddling him. She sighs out a breath as she heads around her desk to pack her own files away, unload others. Her eyes keep darting to Reid, whose moving slower, like he's trying to process.

"Half an hour?"

She jumps but smiles her agreement when Hotch passes her desk. It's only once the elevator doors close behind her that she finally stops puttering and throws her bag over her shoulder.

"I'm alive," she repeats, stepping around into his half-cubicle now that there's no one around. "Doyle is dead. I am not going anywhere."

Then she leaves the BAU, hoping that at least for tonight, her words are enough.


	23. Chapter 23

Emily relaxes into Hotch's sinfully comfortable couch. Jack's finally down after his dad vetoed the sixths tory he wanted Emily to Reid and Hotch is sweetly making her a cup of tea because she's trying to cut back on her caffeine. She lets her eyes fall closed, listening to the kettle boil and the man putter around putting together everything she's likely to need for her drink. She doesn't open her eyes when he comes back into the room and feels him sink next to her on the couch.

"Reid's keeping you up."

No surprise hits her system. None at all. It is Hotch after all. She just sighs.

"Emily, what's going on?"

Hadn't she asked him to leave it alone? She ponders her answer for a moment, but eventually gives in. "He's been coming to my apartment for a few weeks." Probably the same way he went to JJ.

Still, he asks, "Coming?"

God, this is exactly what she'd wanted to avoid. But she is the one that unlocked the door he was trying to pry open. Her hand comes up to brush against her forehead before sliding down to pinch the bridge of her nose. "It's no big deal, Hotch."

"You're exhausted." And that makes it a big deal because it means she's not taking care of herself. He can't stand that.

"It's the risk, Hotch. My risk," she says, dropping her arm back to her lap.

"Your risks are my risks."

She shakes her head. "Not yet," she says gently. This is one of those things she's trying to work on, one of those walls that has to come down before she can let him start shouldering her burdens. She sighs again. "He just… We all have nightmares, Hotch and if being there helps?" She shakes her head. "I can't turn him away."

"Have you talked to your therapist?"

She hasn't told him about Garrett other than mentioning she was thinking about going. She knows he's asking if Reid's come up. "Yes."

"And?" he prompts after a moment.

She finally looks at him though there's exasperation and impatience in her gaze. "I'm not an idiot. I know it's unhealthy."

"Can you fix it?"

"Is it enough that I want to?"

He doesn't have to tell her it's not. He doesn't have to tell her to be careful, to be watchful, to ensure that she finds some way to stop being an enabler. Reid can't come to her forever. He is now, more than ever, seriously considering sending the team back to therapy. Mandatory. Because quite obviously they're through anger and into something else entirely.

"Look, Hotch, you and Morgan are rocks. Rossi, if anything just understands. Garcia's got Kevin and JJ's got Will but Reid? Reid only has us."

"I know," he says, because he always feels so painfully aware of that when they have to explain one of Reid's quirks to another LEO. "But we can't coddle him." He remembers the pain after Gideon left, after Elle and after Emily. "And having him sleep on your couch isn't going to prove to him that you're staying."

She stiffens. Garrett hadn't even hinted at that. She can see it though, can see the logic, the attachment. Why is it always coming back to that? Why does it always seem to fundamentally come down to her one major regret since she hit the age of consent?

"Emily," he says, reaching for her, brushing his hand over her cheek. "You're going to make yourself sick."

"I can't abandon him," she whispers back, turning her head to press a soft kiss to his palm.

"He's a thirty-year-old man." Close enough anyway. And he knows Emily gets his point. Reid is going to have to find other ways to deal with things. He has in the past, they both know it. Coping mechanisms are so important for every single one of them to make sure they're not diving off the deep end. He sighs, letting his hand slide down her neck. "Your compassion is one of the most incredible things about you, but this is taking it to a fault."

"There was a time where you thought my compassion was a detriment to my ability."

He'll let her change the subject for now, but he's not done. He will step in if she starts showing signs of genuine illness. He won't have his agents jeopardizing each other's health. "You've become very good at proving me wrong."

"I think that's a backhanded compliment." She's not surprised when he leans in and pressing his mouth to hers. It's been in his face almost since she walked through the door of the apartment. She sighs into the kiss because it's what she wants, but makes sure to cut it off at the slightest indication he wants deeper. "We said we wouldn't."

The knowledge is in his eyes, the surprise that he'd actually done it when he'd tried to hold back. It was too much temptation with her there, comfortable but exhausted, definitely vulnerable. It's not really a scenario-of-choice for first kisses.

She chuckles quietly. "Me too." Because she's wanted that longer than she's willing to admit. "Now go."

As if he'd let her leave. He's glad she's just assumed. "You go. One night on the couch won't kill me."

"No, but it'll kill your back." Still, she stands, because she really is tired and she knows better than to argue with him. She turns back though after popping her back and leans back down to kiss his cheek. "Thanks, Aaron."

And he smiles, wide and bright, because as worried as he is, she just called him 'Aaron'.


	24. Chapter 24

Hotch has been pairing Emily with Dave a lot. Derek gets it, mostly. He wasn't all that welcoming when Emily returned and they've had their issues since, but he can't help but think it's a little more than punishment. Unnecessary, maybe, but Derek knows Hotch's protective instinct knows no bounds.

But he does want his partner back.

He misses Emily. Yeah, he screwed up and he gets that, but he also knows he had a right to be angry and upset. With JJ, with Hotch and with Emily and he doubts Emily, of all people, would hold a grudge like that. He recognizes he didn't really go about it right, but it's not like he's going to yell at her every two seconds. First of all, he has better control than that. Second… he has better control like that.

He doesn't hate her, and he's not really mad at her anymore either. He's seguing quite smoothly into 'oh my God, she's really back' and it makes him smile. His family's whole. The people who know the most about him, who have been there through some of literally the worst moments of his life… They're all here. He's beyond glad for it. Actually, he's a little stunned. Having Emily back is worth the world and even when he was angry at them all he'd known that.

Derek knows that there's more than just a shred of jealousy. And a lot of fear. He watched her go out into a freaking tornado for goodness sakes. It had felt good for those hours in the trailer park earlier in the Kansas case, bouncing theory with her, seeing her profile in his peripheral. He keeps a bit of a closer eye on her now, making sure he knows when she leaves the room, when she puts something down. He's not going to be caught off guard again.

But that doesn't mean he sits on top of her. He glances over, double checks that she's there and she's safe and she doesn't look like she's going to bolt again. She looks calmest when she's with all of them, when they're all around that round table in the conference room. He's noticed Hotch bringing Emily coffee, exchanging lunches, sharing little snacks throughout the day. They're a couple without being a couple and it's kind of amusing to watch.

He wonders if Hotch is just keeping a closer eye on her. She has looked almost ill recently and it kills him that she does. They all know what's going on. Reid's terrible at hiding when he's having nightmares, and Emily's too warm-hearted. Her nightmares have faded, she was sleeping better before Reid started having his.

So he waits at the BAU, with surprising patience. Penelope's already poked her head in to say goodbye, and the last time he passed by the bullpen, Rossi was just leaving. Still, he waits an hour before he goes back to the bullpen. And sure enough, Reid's still there, head bent, but not really doing the paperwork he's got open in front of him.

"You going home at all tonight, Kid?"

Reid looks up, but recovers quickly. "I could ask you the same question."

Derek offers a nonchalant shrug. He's better at this game than Reid thinks he is. He has to contend with Penelope who will pester him for an hour before he convinces her he'll be fine. The nights she has her victim support group are, as terrible as it sounds, easier. Like tonight.

And that means tonight, he gets to interrogate Reid. Because he knows Reid's the reason Emily's been a little worse for wear for the last couple of weeks. She keeps sneaking glances at Boy Wonder, checking up on him. It was Derek's biggest clue.

"Thought I'd get a head start on paperwork." He considers Reid, then says, "You know how Em sulks when she's not the first one done hers."

The shift in Reid's eyes confirms everything and Derek has to actually resist the urge to smirk. He still hasn't lost his touch. He waits, wonders, then when Reid doesn't reply says, "She's not going anywhere."

"You don't know that." Reid flinches and Derek knows he hadn't meant to tell anyone. Derek wonders if he's even mentioned to Emily that it goes deeper than just her death.

Derek understands it. Of course he does. It took a while for him to believe she wasn't going anywhere either. "Reid." He perches on the end of Reid's desk and waits until Reid looks up defiantly. "You know her."

"Do i? She hit the whole-" His mouth snaps shut. He doesn't want to rehash all of this. It doesn't matter though. Derek knows.

"I know because Emily hasn't changed. She's the same as she was before Doyle. Yeah, a bit damaged, but we're all a bit broken. She fits right in. But she's the same person, Reid. And the Emily Prentiss we both know wouldn't voluntarily abandon us," and yes, it's a deliberate wording on his part, "unless she thought it was what we wanted."

"None of us want her to go." Reid blurts.

"Yeah," Derek agrees. "She knows." Then he sighs. "We've got to stop making her feel guilt."

"What if it happens again?" Reid asks quietly, looking away. "What if this time she doesn't come back?"

"It's a risk, Kid. One we all take every day. You think she'd be any less upset if it was any one of us?" Derek sighs. "One day, one of us might not come back."

Neither of them likes that. It doesn't even take a behaviouralist to know and see that.

"But Em… She's our girl. Her and JJ and Garcia." Then he offers Reid a bit of a sly grin. "Plus, you think Hotch is going to let Em just walk away?"

Reid's face crinkles, but Derek knows Boy Wonder's going over all of Hotch and Emily's interactions since her return. When his face smoothes, all except his brow, Derek knows he's seen it too. "No."

"No. So she's not going anywhere."

But Reid's not convinced. "What if next time we can't save her?"

"What if's'll kill you, Kid. Go home." He checks his watch. "You'd have enough time to call her, if you need to, but you've got to start accepting that she's not going to leave. She's back and she's here and no nightmare is ever going to be able to take her from us. Not again."

Not as long as he was there. Not as long as they were there. They watched out for each other, and now Derek, Hotch, Dave, JJ, they all knew what to look for. They wouldn't have another Doyle again.

"You really think she's here to stay?"

Derek wants to roll his eyes. The man wants to be treated like an adult, makes adult decisions, then acts like a kid. He reassures Reid anyway. "We're family," he says and then imparts the information Emily's been trying to make them see for months. "You don't just abandon your family if you think they're safe."

And they were all safe. As safe as could be, considering.

Reid pushes back from his desk, and Derek watches him do it. Then, when he's ready to go, Reid looks up. "Are you going home?"

"Just one more form to finish," he says, reassuring his little brother, he'll be fine. And then, because he can't help it, he reaches out to ruffle the kid's hair. "Go watch Star Trek or something."

They leave the bullpen and Derek heads to his office when he's sure Reid's on the elevator. Sometimes the kid absorbs too much and doesn't have an outlet.

He's just packing up to go when his phone rings. His brow wrinkles when he see's Garcia's name on the ID. "Baby Girl, it's late to call."

Her voice shakes when she says. "Derek, I need your help."


	25. Chapter 25

It's been a week.

A week since they saved Penelope's friend. A week since Reid's been by with nightmares. A week since her conversation and kiss with Hotch.

She's never been so happy to show up for Girls' Lunch.

JJ, unbeknownst to Emily, feels the same. Things have been crazy since Emily's return and she's still now trying to rebalance her life again. Will's right. She doesn't get weekends and yeah, she doesn't get many days off, but it's a job she loves and feels like she's contributing to. She's saving lives, she's reuniting families and that what helps her go home to hers at night.

It means she doesn't take hers for granted.

Penelope's just glad they can do this again. She's glad she's got her family back, her girls. It wasn't the same when JJ was at the Pentagon, and it was definitely totally different with one of them missing. Penelope and JJ had been forced to stop it was just too different.

Now though, now things are normal.

There's laughter over coffee and juice, debates and deals made over breakfast orders. There's eggs, bacon, toast a variety of breakfast meats… Yeah, it's good that they're all back.

"How's Henry?" Emily asks when they've finally decided and put in their orders.

"Much better," JJ says, her relief obvious. "He's back to daycare and everything."

"And Will?" Penelope can't help but pipe up. It's not that she doesn't like Will, exactly, it's just that it's important to her that JJ is happy. The BAU makes her happy, in a way, because of the people, and she's doing a job she enjoys. Will makes her happy, most of the time, because she loves him. But those times he stands between the things JJ loves, Penelope gets a little protective.

JJ knows this. It's not the first time Penelope's gotten defensive on her behalf. She shoots the blond a look. "He's still adjusting."

"It's been a year," Emily says, in that way of hers that's entirely non-judgmental. She's just making a point. Will's dealt with the long hours before, the insanity of being called at all hours when that tipping point is reached. He's not new to what they do or that JJ loves it.

Still, JJ just shrugs. She's not sure she's quite ready to talk about that kind of drama. It's difficult, sometimes, to think that the man she loves wants to change her. It's not that she doesn't understand it – she does, one hundred percent because she hates missing Henry – but that doesn't mean that she accepts it. When she was at the Pentagon they were an entirely different type of family. "How's Jack?"

Emily's entire face lights up. It's not a secret that she's gone over Hotch's boy. "Excited for Christmas."

"Oh my God, that isn't far at all!" Penelope exclaims on a gasp. "A week."

"I know," Emily agrees with a wry smile. "Jack reminds me."

Jack, all three of them can extrapolate, is the happiest Emily is back. He's the one person who acted with pure, unbridled happiness. It had been hard, losing two maternal figures, and there's no one happier than Emily that she gets to come back to that little boy.

"He's got all of these plans," she goes on. "Cookies and decorating and trees and parties…"

"With you in them."

The brunette blushes. "I'm not there yet."

"What do you mean?" Penelope inquires as she cradles her coffee mug.

"I just… I'm not better yet," she confesses carefully. She stays away from mentioning Garrett, but goes on, "I'm not ready for that kind of emotional commitment when I'm not sure I'm good for it yet."

"You're not that damaged," JJ says. "You're doing fine in the field, you're doing what you're supposed to be doing." She shrugs. "I don't get it."

Emily sighs. She doesn't know how to explain it. That's what it comes down to. She's not sure how best to balance the emotions that she battles with Doyle and nightmares and Declan, and Hotch and Jack and the light. She's not quite sure she's ready. She's not quite sure she's deserving. "I don't know if I can explain it," Emily admits.

"If it's about the nightmares, we all have them," Penelope speaks up with uncharacteristic seriousness. Because she is no more immune to the nightmares than the rest of them. She stares at the images, upends people's lives, and she's no slouch. But that gets to her. The sadness, the death… Emily's whole thing had her tossing and turning for weeks on end.

"It's not just about the nightmares," Emily says quietly because there's really no use in denying it. "I just… I'm just not ready. I don't think I'm ready."

"Is Hotch ready?"

That makes Emily blush bright crimson. Penelope and JJ crow with laughter.

"I've wondered what it would be like," JJ reveals with a sly smile. "Having someone like Hotch court me. Intense, dark…" She shivers dramatically.

Emily's blush deepens. She's not offended or shocked. She knows she pondered getting involved with Morgan before they slid quite happily into their quasi-sibling, quasi-work spouse thing. Except Hotch and JJ don't flirt.

"You want him," Penelope sing songs.

This time, it makes Emily smile. "I haven't really made a secret of it since I've been back."

"Neither has he," Penelope replies with a wide grin. "So I don't get it."

"I can't explain it," Emily admits. She really can't. She's talking to Garrett, she's being careful at work, Reid hasn't been over since the night she stayed with Hotch last week… She feels like she's waiting for the other shoe to drop. There's something itching, just under the surface of her skin, and when it finally breaks free, she's afraid something is going to explode.

JJ sighs. "Em, you can't hold yourself back forever."

"Not forever," Emily argues. "Just until things are safe. Normal."

"Nothing is ever safe," JJ says with a look to Emily. She hates that Emily's holding herself back because of Doyle. She feels like it's an excuse, a fear that Emily will never get over until she just lets herself fall. She understands Doyle did some sort of damage, that the whole thing is a right mess, but JJ's afraid that if Emily keeps dwelling on it, she'll never move forward. She'll never know how good it can be to have a family, to have something that light to come home to.

Because Jack and Hotch… well, there's always the chance that they won't be there forever. Especially since Emily's taking her sweet time in feeling like she can take what she wants, what's right there at the tip of her fingers.

Of course, the former liaison also knows that's not the way Emily's going to take it.

"Of course not but… I don't want to put them through more grief."

This time, it's Penelope that leans in, her face stern. "Emily Prentiss, Ian Doyle is dead."

Emily shocks all three of them when she jerks violently. She recovers quickly. "I know that," she says, with more bite than she means.

Both blondes take it in stride. They're pushing, they know that. There's a look that passes between them and it says that they're in this together.

"Then why are you letting him dictate something you could reach out and take?" JJ's voice is softer. Habitual almost because Emily's starting to look like a rabbit about to run.

"I can't break them," Emily whips back quickly. "I can't put them in a situation where I could do that. I have to be absolutely sure I'm not going to break, I'm not going to run, I'm not going to hide. And I'm not sure of that yet."

"Are you ever going to be sure?"

Emily drops her head into her hands, her hair spilling over her fingers. Her eyes are dark when they meet her friends'. "I don't know."


	26. Chapter 26

They're on a case in the middle of nowhere when their collective PTSD hits them with a vengeance.

It makes no sense at first. Emily doesn't fit the victim type. They're looking at redheads, short, willowy, not tall brunettes. But she and Derek are talking to a witness when it happens.

Because it turns out their 'witness' is their 'killer'.

The interview goes sour in seconds.

Literally.

One second, George Carp is fine, the next, they've picked away to discover he hates his sister and he lashes out at Emily before Derek can react. And Derek knows he's got lightning fast reflexes.

Derek's not entirely sure what happens next. He knows Emily's bleeding and George is running and he's fucking torn. It takes him slightly longer to make the decision than it should, but Emily's got a hand pressed to the wound in her shoulder, glaring at him, yelling.

He goes, because he's not sure he can look at her bleeding again.

As he chases the redhead down, his mind is seventy-five percent focused on the fact that Emily is bleeding back in that house. But he can't do it again. That was how Doyle got away, because she was bleeding out and he wasn't going to leave her. What's funny is that logically he knows that she's going to be fine. She was bleeding, yeah, but it wasn't arterial spray. She hadn't passed out, she hadn't fallen immediately into shock and he knows she's not stupid. She'd have called backup, an ambulance, whatever. She was completely coherent when he left her.

He tackles George to the ground – and can't help the swelling of pride because damn he's always faster than the bastards – he knows he's a little rougher than he should have been. He doesn't really care. Chances are, the guy killed his own sister at some point so he's not sure he gives a crap.

Because when it comes down to it, the guy stabbed Emily. And he could have easily beaten Doyle to death for doing the same thing.

He frog marches the redhead back to his house, unsurprised to see the flashing lights of the ambulance and the extra black SUVs. It seems the whole team emptied out of the precinct for this.

Then again, it's also the first time Emily's been in real danger since The Doyle Fiasco 2.0.

Derek hands the guy over to the LEOs. It's too dangerous to have him in FBI custody right now and despite the red haze currently over his vision, Derek knows that. It helps that his focus is on Emily. He wants to make sure she's okay, that they can stop the bleeding, that they aren't going to lose her again. As likely as it is that the wound was non-fatal, he's flashing back to her bleeding out on the floor of a dirty Boston warehouse with a table leg in her stomach.

She is fine though. She's sitting on the back of the ambulance bed while they prep her for transport. JJ catches him.

"She's going in. She's going to need stiches," JJ says. "We're all going."

There's no question about it and for that, Derek's glad. They've caught the guy. They don't need to interrogate him and even if they do, they've got time to break him.

And break him they will.

For now, stabbing an federal agent is going to keep him in custody for a while.

Unanimously, they vote for Reid to ride with Emily. He seems afraid to do it, but they don't give him much of a choice. As someone with the freshest wounds they all feel like it'll be best to see that she's so much better this time than the last one. She's not going to code in the ambulance.

Still, Derek's heart doesn't slow. His adrenaline is pumping, fear racing through his blood and it's a terribly uncomfortable feeling. He can't fight the emotional response of seeing her bleeding on the floor again and he wants to with every piece of himself. Logically, he understands that she's going to be fine, beyond the fact that she has to be.

But it's startlingly clear that none of them are as good as they should be.

None of them can forget that they lost her for six months.

None of them can let go of the fact that it cannot happen again.

Ever.


	27. Chapter 27

Emily's eyes are closed while they stitch up her shoulder. They've used a local anesthetic so she can't feel the needle going in and out of her skin, but she can feel the tugging. The cut was clean, the EMT had told her in the ambulance. There's no lasting damage, the knife missed all the important veins and arteries. She's going to be completely fine.

Well, except for the shoulder stitches.

And the emotional aftermath.

Reid had looked absolutely stricken in the ambulance. Completely and utterly and it's a freaking flashback. She's trying not to think about it, but it's a fight she cannot win. It's too close to the surface, too familiar to all of them. It's terrible.

Hell, even she had flashed back.

She knows Reid wanted to stay with her, but she'd refused. She doesn't need him seeing the doctor stitching up her shoulder. That's not something she needs him worrying about. She's going to let them see the wound, the stitches, the cleaned blood, because she knows they need to. They need to know she's going to be fine. It's going to take a couple of weeks, but this stab wound is nothing like the other one. This, for all intents and purposes and for argument's sake, is a superficial flesh wound.

She won't die.

She'd known that too. She knows what dying feels like, and she knows she had time. She's glad for once, because while the EMTs got her to the hospital quickly, they didn't seem to make a big deal of it. Of course, the way Reid was gripping her hand in the ambulance was probably a pretty good indication of how her teammates were reacting to the entire situation.

She sighs, winces when she feels the tug of the stitches, but doesn't open her eyes.

This is going to suck.

The doctor finishes up and helps her slide a sling over her body. The shoulder needs to be as immobile as possible so the skin can start knitting back together again. Other than that, it's just sleep and painkillers, taking it easy over the next couple of weeks until she can get the stitches removed. She offers a smile and a thanks before starting the process of psyching herself up. She's got to face them, for their own good as well as her own.

Everybody needs to know she's alive.

Reid rushes her first. He pauses inches from her and Emily rolls her eyes before carefully sliding her good arm around him.

"I'm not broken," she tells him as he wraps his arms around her carefully. "Just watch the shoulder."

He adjusts until he's knocking air out of her lungs. She doesn't complain, just lets him hug her. When Reid finally steps away, there's JJ and Hotch. Rossi offers her a squeeze of the good shoulder and an expression that says he's so glad she's okay.

Derek…

Derek doesn't move. He sits in his chair, not looking at her, facing forward.

"He hasn't said anything," JJ offers quietly.

Emily's not surprised. That's the second time she's gotten hurt like this and he's been there. She knows.

"We're heading back. Dave, JJ, take the interrogation. Reid and I'll work on packing up," Hotch speaks up. They have a job to finish after all, and they're going to do it. He nods to Derek. "He's got keys."

Emily offers a thank you with her eyes because she knows Hotch wishes it was him staying behind. But Derek needs this more than Hotch does, and no one's really willing to resist when it's so terribly obvious.

She picks the seat to his left, so her good shoulder can press against his. He still doesn't move and she slides her hand in between the ones clenched in his lap. He starts and looks over. The relief is so palpable it breaks her heart. "I was always going to be fine."

He sighs. It's not enough.

"Hey." She's not going to give him an inch. She's going to freaking fight him. "Don't you dare, Derek Morgan. Do not blame yourself."

"I should have seen it," he hisses. "I should have known."

"No, you shouldn't have," she replies sharply. "You know that."

He blows out a heavy breath.

"We went in there for an interview," she stresses. "Because he'd lost his sister. How were we supposed to know that he'd fit the profile, that he'd turn on me?"

Derek looks at her, fixes on her arm in the sling but does her a favour and brings his eyes immediately to hers. "Where did he get the knife?"

"Switchblade," Emily tells him wryly. "Could've fit easily in his pocket."

"He had his hand in his pocket the whole time."

"And we both thought it was a nervous tick." She sighs. "Dammit, Derek. This is no more your fault than Doyle. This is a hazard of the job and I don't think I can work with you if every time we get into one of these situations you're going to freeze up on me, blame yourself. You can't live with that guilt. I can't live with that guilt."

"That's a low blow," he tells her, but there's a ghost of a smile on his face. "Nicely played."

"I thought so."

They stand together, and Derek digs the SUV keys out of his pocket. She stops him just before they separate to go to their respective sides of the car. "I get that I can't actually make you stop blaming yourself. Just make sure it isn't for long, okay?"

She can tell he's glad for her words because there's genuine relief in her eyes. "I'll try."

She nods. She knows it's all she can ask for.


	28. Chapter 28

She deliberately chooses the seat next to Reid on the ride home, and sits a little closer than normal. It's the best she can do at the moment. Hotch sits across from her, and she wastes no time or thought on ensuring his foot is against hers. Contact. All of them need it with her right now, that tangible connection that she is still here. She is still alive. She isn't going anywhere.

She is, however, exhausted.

It's the bone deep kind of exhausted too, the one that comes on the heels of an injury and the departure of the last dregs of adrenaline. She could collapse if it wasn't for the fact that she knows they'd all panic. And the last thing she wants to do when she feels like this is spend the night in the hospital.

Pain-wise, though, she's pleasantly numb. The local's worn off long ago, but the painkillers she's on have dulled the pain receptors very well. She's wondered after everything she was on post-op if regular painkillers would help her with anything. She'd stubbornly fought through headaches and other miscellaneous body pain after weaning herself off the narcotics just to ensure her body wasn't entirely immune to the drugs. She's glad she's not feeling much.

Reid's tense beside her. Hotch is looking up from his paperwork every ten minutes. Even JJ's not-so-covertly sneaking glances. Dave can see her through the four seats. Derek's the only one who isn't looking at her constantly.

She doesn't like this.

She doesn't like this at all.

Finally, the sixth time Hotch looks up, Emily loses it a bit.

"Guys, I'm fine."

It makes Reid jump six feet in the air. JJ looks like a deer in the headlights. She's not surprised when Derek doesn't look around – he goes off into his own world to do things and that often involves sound-cancelling headphones – nor is she shocked when Dave and Hotch merely send her mild looks.

"it's just a stab wound," she says, making sure she's turned towards Reid. "Even the doctors said I was going to be fine with a couple of weeks' rest and rehab." She meets JJ's eyes. "This isn't Doyle. Doyle's dead."

When she looks to Dave, to Hotch, she notices pride there. A spark. She's said something right and when she goes over the words, she's pretty sure she gets it. She's the one that's recognized Doyle's dead. She's the one who's said it, without prompting, without repeating. She's the one who isn't look at this like a victim. She's looking at it like an agent would any other wound. She wants to laugh to herself.

She has, apparently, come a long way. Garrett's helped, she knows that, and she's grateful. The smile creeps over her face slowly, spreading as Hotch's mouth quirks, his eyes crinkle.

Emily reaches over to Reid, though keeps her eyes on the unit chief. "Doyle can't break us. He can't get to us anymore."

There's a loud slow intake of break from the genius, and Emily can see JJ's eyes soften out of the corner of her eye.

"Nothing can break us."

And maybe, just maybe, she's ready to prove it.


End file.
